Minority Opinions
by jane1229
Summary: My own version of GH, in which I tend to pair their characters with mine. It is a continuation of Girl Racer. Some families are simplified. Alexis is the full sister of Stefan and the Quartermaines are full siblings no Jason Morgan
1. Trouble Makes You Stronger

**Minority Opinions 1 R **

Continuation of Girl Racer:  
Link

Clay had just gotten off of his shift as bartender at the London Underground, the club underneath Kelly's. He and Taryn were dancing.

"Your Mom go out with you all the time now?" Clay asked Taryn, as they were dancing, looking over at Patti.

"She's having a bad time of it," Taryn said. "Dad just left."

"You mean, he moved out?"

"Yes."

"Are they getting a divorce?"

"I don't know yet."

"That's too bad. I'm sorry."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. He held her a little closer.

"Who is she talking to?"

"A lawyer."

"Oh, that sounds like divorce."

"Yeah," Taryn said. "It's hard to believe. I never thought it would happen. I guess no one does."

"Yeah," Clay said. "My folks are solid, but whenever someone describes it, it sounds horrible."

"It is, believe me. My little brother and little sister ask questions. And you can't blame them. But it brings all the pain up."

"You're old enough to understand," he said. "Sort of, anyway."

"I can't understand what Mom's going through," Taryn said. "I know that men think they need variety, but I figured it stopped once they got married and had three children."

"Need variety?"

"Yes. They don't want to be tied down to one woman."

"How do you know this is true of all men?"

"My boyfriend. Jeremy. I thought we were in love. He wanted to date other girls. So I realized that falling in love is not the end of it. He expected to fall in love more than once, I guess."

"That's just him. He must be a real jerk."

"No one seemed to think he was a jerk. Just that I should understand."

"You didn't want to move on from him?"

"Not at first. Now I'm glad. Better than being married to him for ages and having his children."

"It doesn't always happen that way," Clay said. "My parents, it wouldn't."

"You never know. But after nine kids, I wouldn't blame your mom if she killed your dad."

Clay laughed. "She would."

"Maybe he knows that and it's what stops him."

"They'd say that, but it would be a joke. They love each other, but they love their family, the idea of their family, too, so much they couldn't let it go."

"That's what my dad must be missing then," Taryn said. "He took up with this woman at work, much younger. And his whole family is meaningless in the face of this supposed romance. Oh, they're so in love. Yuck."

"Sounds like a mid-life crisis," Clay said. "He'll be sorry one day."

"How do you know?" she tried to laugh.

"With a big family, I hear so many different stories, about relatives and their friends and their friends' friends."

"OK," Taryn said. "You made me feel better. I don't know why. You have so many brothers and sisters, I think I believe you can know a lot about people."

"What do you say we go to a party tomorrow night?" he asked. "One of my numerous brothers is having it at his apartment."

Kara received her first radiation treatments. They weren't so bad in themselves. Just weird. Usually either Dr. Quartermaine or Nurse Donovan showed up just to see how it was going. That was comforting. 

But later, she'd begin to feel sick. Then the seriousness of her situation dawned on Kara in a way the headaches and the operation itself had not brought to the fore.

Peter came over and sat on her bed with her. She felt nauseous. She wanted him to go and not see her like this, and he did not take that well at first, then realized that he was fighting with her, which he didn't want to do when she was so ill. He tried to convince her it didn't matter what she looked like, with what she was going through, he was there for her. She didn't have to impress him by looking great when she was sick. He wasn't like that.

Then she'd feel guilty for the way she talked to him. Tears came to her eyes. He didn't want her to feel worse.

He tried explaining this to his mother, and she was sympathetic. One evening Jax was there and listened to Peter's description of what happened.

"Patience and toleration," Jax said. "It's hard on you. I can't imagine. But it must be. You want to be there for her and at the same time put up with her not wanting you to be there. If she were ideally mature, she'd know you love her no matter what she looks like or feels like. But she's 17. You're only 17, too. The only reason it might be fair to put more burden on you is you're not sick."

"I know what you're getting at," Peter said. "If I consider not going over, to make her happy because she doesn't want me there, it doesn't seem right."

"Means you're stuck with some of that negativity," Jax said. "It's not something many of us have to go through at your age."

"Is it one of those things that will make me stronger in the end?" Peter asked.

Jax laughed and hit Peter in the shoulder. "You're already mature for your age, to say that," he said. "Maybe it's this. Maybe it's other things."

"Zander thinks we went through some bad stuff," Peter said. "But all that was nothing compared to this."

Alexis was slowly drifting into a knowledge of immigration law. It was half fascinating, half overly technical, bureaucratic and mysterious. It involved her close friends now, though, and became of interest to Alexis on that account.

Mikhail and Oksana were in her office, wondering if Tatiana could be convinced to let Irina stay if she was able to come over and visit, see the house, the school and the skating rink.

Alexis knew a visitor's visa was no easy thing for a Russian to get. It wasn't easy to get, period, from any other than certain European countries, or Canada or Australia.

"Tatiana has to convince the consul she will not going to stay in US longer," Alexis was telling them, in her best Russian. "Than the immigration will give her. It is very difficult to do modern days. The immigration will know it cannot catch every person who stays longer than immigration give them for a visit. Many people do and still illegal. The government no power except at consul. Where he will say no, because to grant the visa is to risk illegal alien staying. Staying too long."

"How do people manage, living in the US illegally?" Oksana asked. She had never spent a day in the U.S. illegally, unless it was the day she had defected.

"Work illegal, "under the table," Alexis used that English, hoping that would be a phrase Oksana knew in English. "Stay around until they can fix legal, marry a US citizen, or the like. Send money home. Think it all good."

"How can Tatiana try to prove she'll go home?" Mikhail asked. "She is married and she has a job."

"Two good facts," Alexis said. "If she comes to the US, without her husband, she might have chance. She is not a relative to anyone here. If consul would learn about Irina, he will not want Tatiana to have visa, though. Thinking Tatiana will stay to be near Irina. Tatiana knowing in less than ten years, Irina could make herself to be a US citizen, and then Irina will could file a petition for her mother that could fix her mother legal."

"But Tatiana would not leave her job or her husband for that," Oksana said, then, looking at Mikhail "or would she?"

"To stay with Irina, maybe," Mikhail said. "Maybe she can apply when Irina is there in Russia. Then when they ask her if she has relatives in the U.S., she can say no. Ex-husband doesn't count, does he?"

Alexis was amused. "I don't think so. Government live by technicalities against we, so it will be fine with me to use technicalities against it," she said. Damn the federal government, Alexis thought to herself. They made it so easy to feel right about messing with them. After her experience at the consulate in Yekaterinburg, she was in no mood to give them any quarter.

After meeting with Alexis at her office, Mikhail went to work.

"Well, Sean," Maureen sat down next to him at the London Underground bar. By this time, Mikhail knew what to pour for her. "Looks like you've got big girlfriend trouble."

"Why are you interested?" was Sean's first response.

It struck Mikhail that he understood Sean's entire sentence. He got Sean another beer on the house, just for being the first non-family American to utter a sentence in English completely comprehensible to Mikhail.

Maureen noticed how Sean did not engage in his usual friendly flattery. Not when this subject was under discussion. "I have reasons that I'll explain later," she said. "I care about Jason, and so I care about his sister."

"Great," Sean said. "Now the whole family and their girlfriends will be on my case."

"Aww," Maureen said, half mockingly.

"It's sandbagging," Sean complained. "Skye always talked as if she cared about me only for one thing and she still does, so I don't see what she's getting all hot and bothered about."

"So her suddenly caring about your side action seems inconsistent to you."

"Using it against me, it does. She only cares for her ego's sake. Or she claims she concerned about diseases, which if she really was, she could have brought it up before, without seeming like she gave a damn about me."

"Maybe she was hurt but didn't realize that she would be. Then she'll come around."

"Her ego was hurt, that's all."

"You don't want to move on, you care about Skye, that's why you want her to move in with you."

"So she goes around blabbing about that. But she refuses to move in."

"Why did you cheat on her?"

"It would be hopeless if I cared about her. She had repeatedly made it clear that it wouldn't be returned. So I see no reason to make myself miserable just on principle. I know that's OK with her. Not with me." 

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Years ago, but I had to get over it. I don't plan on pining over those who don't want me, for life, when I gave it my best shot. Hey, I'm not that romantic. Would you do a thing like that? No."

"But you might have jumped the gun in Skye's case. Assumed too fast she didn't care."

"Hmm," he considered.

"I think there is something to salvage if you both would give up your pride. She's upset. She wouldn't be if she didn't care. You are upset. Same thing."

"Maybe."

"You wouldn't have asked her to move in with you and be exclusive if you weren't trying to save it."

"She says no," he reminded Maureen.

"I'm sure you're nothing if not persistent."

"Gee, thanks, Nurse Donovan."

"Give it your best shot, at least," she said, getting up and putting some money on the bar for Mikhail. "See you, lover boy," she said to Sean.

Mikhail thought her understood that, and was surprised that Maureen considered Sean to be her lover. Americans were strange. She showed Sean not the least bit of real affection.

"You're in hot water Sean," Sarah said, sitting down next to him, in fact in the very seat Maureen had vacated not five minutes earlier.

"Another counselor," he said, sarcastically. "Say, how about having dinner with me? The case is over. We're free to get to know each other better."

"Sounds like a dead end to me," Sarah said. "You're only trying to get over Skye. If not, you already have another woman, that's why Skye is so upset with you."

"What other woman?"

"The one you cheated on her with, dummy. As Skye calls her, Valerie 'The Slut' Edwards."

"Oh," he said. He'd forgotten all about his evening with Valerie, though it was at the root of his current problems. "Valerie went back to New York City. Which Skye knows. She called her that? Never mind. Why are you so interested?"

"Human nature."

"So what do you prescribe, doctor?"

"Turn on all your charm. What attracted Skye in the first place?"

"You don't want to know."

"What was it?"

"Talking to her about how she could do her new job, I must have been the only one close to having any sympathy for her against her family. No, Sergei did too. But I'm closer to Skye's age."

"So be supportive of her against her family now. There's always something, with them."

"Why are you so helpful?"

"I have parents who are doctors who volunteered to work in Bosnia for three years."

"A genetic do gooder, eh?"

"Sometimes."

"That must be it. You're not in love with one of Skye's brothers, are you?"

"Nope. Why would you say that?"

"It explains Nurse Donovan's interest in making Skye happy."

"Oh, I just like Skye. And I come from a do-gooder family."

"Your type causes all the trouble in the world," he said.

Ballina is a town best known for its fishing. Zander and Quinn quickly learned that its River Moy is internationally acknowledged as an exceptional salmon fishery and that Ridge Pool, the salmon anglers paradise, is located in the heart of the town. Lough Conn and Lough Cullin, just to the south of Ballina, are renowned for brown trout fishing.

"Let's go fishing, then," suggested Zander.

Quinn loved his impulsiveness when it showed up like this. Spontaneity. Fun. Sitting in a boat on Lake Conn fishing was where you ended up. A new experience.

"I like the Irish sayings," he was musing, casting a line. "Like the one: 'There are finer fish in the sea than have ever been caught.' Or: 'It takes a woman to outwit the devil.'"

"A woman in the house is a treasure, a woman with humor in the house is a blessing," Quinn quoted. "A man with humor will keep ten men working."

"The Irish always have that sense of humor to fall back on."

"I like: 'The best way to get an Irishman to refuse to do something is by ordering it,'" Quinn said.

"Now if that's true, I am an Irishman," Zander said. "That's one way to get on my nerves. I hate people telling me what to do. When they do it in that ordering tone, without suggesting, just acting like they get to order you around. I'd never make it in the military."

"Then you'd know what it was for," Quinn said. "The overall purpose. But day to day, I can bet. I wouldn't order you to do anything."

"See you don't," he said, grinning. "Well, you could get away with it."

"I love that you're not perfect," she said. "Remember that."

"Yeah, perfect is boring," he said. "I wonder if Maureen is fed up with Dr. Jason Perfect yet."

"Well, when it comes down to it," Quinn said. "I wonder if he's fed up with her? She's rather perfect herself."

"No Irish temper? Shame on her!"

Quinn laughed. "Whoah!" she said suddenly. "I caught a fish!"

Duane Edwards called Sarah and took her over to Niagara Falls. They walked to a restaurant on the Canadian side. He was driving and wouldn't drink, but got her a bottle of wine.

"Trying to loosen me up," she said, sipping, looking at him over the rim of the glass. Her eyes were full of suggestion. Or at least, so he thought.

She was amused at how, for the second time, he took her out, but away from Port Charles. Trying not to be seen, she thought. She didn't mind. It was fun to have some air of secrecy about things.

After dinner, they walked onto the footbridge again. It was dark, but there were people milling about, tourists or others out on the town.

The falls roared in his ears. It filled his brain and cleared everything else out. Standing at the rail, they listened to the mesmerizing sound.

She turned slightly and put her hand on his arm. "I feel this slightest bit of a pull," she said. "Do you ever get that feeling?"

"Like you might jump?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "I know I won't, but it pulls at you. Makes me want to grip the railing or you."

"I understand," he said. He knew she was using this to get to him. He didn't mind, really. He kissed her, gripping her firmly, supposedly, he thought, amused, to keep her from being pulled into the falls.

Why, he wondered, did kissing her automatically turn into something heated, was this the way younger women were, the way women were today, or just the way he was with her? He half felt like he was in bed with her already, so quickly everything turned into steam, he could feel her tongue, a fire started to burn inside. 

He came up for air and had the same thought he always had. He could not seriously think of sleeping with a woman as young as she was, doctor or not.

"Mmmm," she said, her lips against his neck now, "hope you reserved us a room on this side of the border."

"No!" he protested. "What do you take me for?"

"A torturer," she groaned, mockingly, or so he heard it. "Now I need a cold shower."

"Very funny," he said, trying to minimize it when he knew there was some truth in it.

Then he sighed. "I have no idea what I'm doing," he said. "I haven't been on a date in a hundred years."

"No wonder your tremendous confidence fades when confronted with me," she said. "As a client I'm one thing, as a woman another. But what happened? Your divorce. You can tell me."

She sounded so confident and certain. How she could be more confident in herself than he was in himself was a mystery, but it seemed to be so.

"I only dated one person in my life and then married her, and we were married a very long, long time, and we had two grown daughters, and then one day, she told me, that, that." Sarah was looking up at him. She looked strong enough to hear. She was so young, though. "That she was in love with someone else and leaving to marry him."

"Oh," Sarah said, sympathetically. "I'm so sorry. That sounds like it was a shock. Like you didn't expect it."

"No, I didn't."

She took his hand. He felt her understanding and sympathy and wondered how she could have any, at her age. She seemed so mature, somehow. He wondered if he was fooling himself about this.

"I talked to a woman," he said, suddenly inspired. "A potential client. A common story. Her husband left her for a younger woman."

"That's got nothing to do with you."

"I felt a lot of sympathy for her."

"Because your wife left you like her husband left her. You were already divorced when you met a younger woman."

"I know."

"And he's guilty, but you're innocent, Duane. So don't take on the punishment for his sins. Just take him to court and take him for all he's worth."

He smiled at that.

"If Humphrey Bogart can do it, you can," she said, taking his hand. They walked on across the bridge, back towards the United States.

"Humphrey Bogart?"

"Look it up," she said. She liked walking, hand in hand, like high school kids, she thought. Maybe he'd relax. Other men would envy him. "It was Lauren Bacall," she added. "Find out about that."

Duane shrugged. When they got to the other end of the bridge, he let go of her hand. They went into the lit room of the U.S. Border Patrol. The agent wanted to see identification. Sarah had left her purse in the car.

"I'll have to live the rest of my life in Canada," she joked. "Are you going to stay with me, Duane?"

"I'll go and get your ID for you," Duane said.

"That's not your father?" the border agent asked her after Duane had walked away.

"Nope," she said. "You've heard of May-December romances? He's December."

"Lucky guy," the agent said.

Sarah smiled, and looked away at Duane, walking away.


	2. When You Need a Good Lawyer

Alexis was stuck in court all day. As she was going out of the building, she saw Duane Edwards was also leaving.

"Hey, I have a question for you," Alexis said. "I was arguing with Ottinger about this. What if a personal injury plaintiff is an illegal alien? They can sue, can't they? If someone injures them in an accident."

"You're the immigration lawyer," he said, teasing her.

"I know he can be deported," Alexis said, laughing. "God, don't call me that, Duane. You can't believe how scary that kind of law is. Complicated as hell. But if the feds don't catch him and deport him and he's here, I don't see it as quite right that anyone can run him over and get clean away with it."

"Humm, but for cause," Duane said. "If he were where he was supposed to be, he wouldn't have been run over. No, I'm kidding. The defendant is still liable. The way it seems to work is this: he can make the claim. He just can't claim his lost wages. So at the deposition when they ask the plaintiff if they are legally in the U.S., I tell them not to answer, because they aren't claiming lost earnings, so it's not relevant."

"Ah, I see," Alexis said. "Wish I'd realized that. Logical, in its way. I thought some terrible thing would happen when he admitted he was illegal in a deposition, but it turns out the insurance company has no power of deportation."

They laughed over this. "Let's go see the band," he said. His daughter Yvonne was the leader of a rock band called The Dissenters.

"Are they playing?"

"Practicing, according to my text message."

"Has that line about the old man having a younger woman found its way into a song yet?"

"Nope, so far Yvonne is in the dark. She must not have talked to Valerie recently."

"Well, then, you really don't know. Maybe by email or phone Valerie has told her and you'll hear that line any day now."

"Thanks for warning me," he said. "I hadn't thought of that."

Alexis listened to the band for awhile. As it got later, the club began to fill up. The band kept rehearsing, as if on a roll.

The band did the song "California," and Alexis recognized it. They had played it at Zander and Quinn's wedding, but a differently arranged version. This version Alexis heard now was hard on the ears. Like a lot of the Dissenters' songs.

"Don't worry little one," she said, patting her stomach. "Not all music sounds like this."

"I wonder if it's bad for the kid," Alexis looked up to see Taryn and her mother Patti. Taryn smirked. She'd said that clever line.

"I was just reassuring him or her that there is other music out there," Alexis laughed. "Classical, even."

They sat down with her.

"There's that guy you like, Mom," Taryn said to Patti. "The one getting a drink at the bar."

"Oh, maybe," Patti said. "I asked him to dance twice before on two other nights I was here. I'm not doing it again. He asks or I'm not doing anything else, now."

"Wise decision, Mom," Taryn said. "There are plenty of fish in the sea."

"No need to rush," Patti said. "I think I'm just testing the waters."

"It's too early for you," Alexis said. "To do more than that. But it's good you can think of it."

"Yes," Patti said. "Thank you, Alexis, for giving me that name. Melinda Delaney. She was very good. I felt better after I talked to her. I wish you did domestic, but as long as you don't, Melinda is good. Mr. Edwards told me he doesn't like to do it either. Is it really so stressful?"

"Yes, of course," Alexis said. "Takes a special type. I've been veering into immigration lately, strangely enough. That takes another type of special type."

"Being a lawyer sounds like it can drive you crazy sometimes," Patti said.

Duane came back, with his and Alexis' drinks. "It's a short drive," he said, having heard Patti's remark.

Alexis took her orange juice from him and smiled. "No caffeine, no alcohol," she said, looking at Patti. "I'm sure you remember. Cheers."

A little while later, the band stopped their rehearsal. The manager started to play music, and a danceable slow song played over the speakers. Duane asked Patti, "Do you want to dance?" He remembered that seemed to make her feel better.

Taryn exchanged a knowing glance with Alexis. Alexis smiled and inwardly found it amusing. A seventeen year old girl. Well, almost eighteen, as Taryn so often reminded people.

Yvonne came over, with Toby. Toby started talking to Taryn, taking her hand and monopolizing her attention. Alexis told Yvonne how much she liked her music, especially the song "California," the way they did it at the wedding.

"I like the way you do it here, too," she said, realizing. "I'm just old, so I liked the way you did it at the wedding a lot."

"More," Yvonne smiled. "I've heard other comments about that."

"Your Dad?"

"No, in fact. Some people who aren't all that old. My sister, for one. She does it by complimenting my voice."

"It is pretty, when you use it a certain way. Don't you think so?"

Yvonne just smiled. She looked over at Duane and Patti on the dance floor. "That's not the woman Val described," Yvonne said to Alexis. "When I talked to Val on the phone. She thought Dad had a girlfriend, but the woman she described no way is Taryn's mom."

"Val described a younger woman," Alexis said.

"Yes," Yvonne looked up, realizing Alexis knew more than she did. "A woman much younger than Dad."

"Do you think that's not a good idea?" Alexis asked.

"I suppose if Dad likes her, he can figure it out," Yvonne said. "I don't want him to get burned again, but if he's going to risk it, what can I do but be there for him if it doesn't work out?"

"That's a nice way to think," Alexis said. "You're really grown up if you're thinking you could be there for him."

"He always is for me," Yvonne said. "And Valerie."

Jason and Maureen, Sarah and Elizabeth, came into the London Underground.

"I'm so glad Patti's out," said Elizabeth, "I hope it will cheer her up. I wonder if that's the guy she was talking about."

"Talking about?" Maureen asked.

"She was interested in a guy. She was telling me about it."

"It's too early," Sarah said. "She's barely getting started on the divorce."

"Yes," answered Elizabeth. "too soon to get involved, but no reason not to dance, socialize. That will be good for her."

When the song and the dance stopped, Patti saw her sister-in-law. She went over to them.

"Glad to see you out," Elizabeth said.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," said Patti.

"Is that the guy you were telling me about?"

"Yes. Turns out we have something in common."

"What's that?"

"His wife left him for another man. Though at least, she waited until the kids were grown. But he has some idea of what I'm going through."

"Will he represent you in the divorce?" Sarah asked Patti. "He's very good."

"He says he doesn't do domestic relations law," Patti said. "Alexis recommended a lawyer at the Baldwin firm. Alexis doesn't like to do it, either."

"How did you know he's a lawyer, Sarah?" Elizabeth asked her sister.

"That's my lawyer for the accident," Sarah answered.

"Oh," Elizabeth said, starting to make the connection.

"Nice guy, really," Patti said. She looked over toward the table where Duane was now with Alexis, Yvonne, Taryn and Toby. "Attractive, though I guess you young girls wouldn't appreciate that."

"There's always one or two," Elizabeth said, looking at Sarah.

"Yeah, take Lauren Bacall, for example," said Sarah.

"Oh, sure," Patti said absently, not really attending. She excused herself to go back to the other table.

Elizabeth said, "So that's Mr. Edwards?"

"That's Duane, yes," said Sarah.

"Looks like you've got competition."

"Is that your older man, Sarah?" Maureen asked.

"Yes," said Sarah.

"He and Patti look really right together," Elizabeth said.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I knew whose side you'd take," was all she said.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Elizabeth protested. "I'm only concerned about you, Sarah. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I'm sure," Sarah rolled her eyes again.

"But look what they have in common. And they're the same age."

"Not a good thing to have in common," Sarah said. "A negative thing. And age, well, some might say I have the advantage."

"It is a negative thing," Jason asked. "It might not be good for them to get together when they have someone else leaving them after a long marriage in common. Trust issues up to the ceiling."

"There are better things to have in common," Maureen agreed.

"Patti obviously knows nothing about me," Sarah said. "But I knew about her. Duane told me about talking to a woman whose husband had left her and how he felt sorry for her. And he called her a potential client."

"That was a clever trick, trying to talk her into hiring him as her lawyer, since you know he can't date his clients, Sarah," Elizabeth said. "But why not tell Patti about you, then? Why dance with her? Why sit over there talking to her and not you? He hasn't even acknowledged you. He must not have told Patti he already has someone."

"He wouldn't presume on that yet, and I don't think he wants anyone to know, yet. I think the age difference makes him nervous and it'll take him awhile to get used to."

"I hope this turns out OK," Elizabeth said.

"For me or Patti?"

"You!"

"I wish you meant it."

"I do, Sarah. Honestly."

Jason smiled. He knew these two.

"Sorry," Patti smiled as she sat down. "I had to say hello to my sister-in-law. She'd over there with a couple of her friends and her sister Sarah."

Alexis glanced at Duane. He looked across the room. He saw Sarah there, talking to two other girls and a man.

"That's Elizabeth's old boyfriend, Jason," Patti said. "They are still friends. Amazing."

"Who's the pretty woman, next to him?" asked Alexis.

"I think that's his girlfriend now," Patti said. "Too bad, he's perfect for Sarah. They're both doctors and they're both children of parents who are both doctors and they both work in the same hospital with both their parents."

"Half the doctors and nurses in that hospital are related by blood or marriage or affinity at any given time," Duane said, looking down at his glass and twirling the liquid in it around. "Sounds like they have enough in common to drive each other crazy."

"Yeah," Alexis laughed. "Young Dr. Webber isn't interested in Young Dr. Quartermaine that way. I know she's interested in someone else."

"That's good," Patti said. "She is so smart. Such a self possessed young woman. I was nothing like her when I was that age. I guess a person has to be confident if they're going to be a surgeon."

"She is a confident one," Alexis said. She was sitting next to Duane, and she stepped on his toe under the table. He tried not to smile.

Later, in bed that night, Elizabeth told Paul about the conversation.

"Well, in all honesty, Patti is better off not dating yet," Paul said. "It's an ego thing, when Kevin left her for a younger woman, she needs validation she's attractive to men. And for the same reasons, this guy, the lawyer, he's better off with Sarah."

"If there were only two women in the world," said Elizabeth.

"He's not the only man in the world," Paul said. "Sarah is single. And as a younger woman, she must be tempting."

"I just always think of Sarah as just like my parents. She sort of belongs to some other doctor, her age, who will end up being her best friend."

"You took care of marrying a doctor, for that family," Paul said. He smiled, and stroked her arm. "You want to be the only one at family gatherings who isn't a doctor?"

"I don't mind," Elizabeth patted his hand.

"Do you have anyone in mind?"

"Someone just like Jason."

"I can't picture Sarah with someone her age," he said.

Elizabeth thought awhile. "You have a point," she said. "Sometimes you get me thinking - or seeing what I really think. I picture someone a little older than you."

"You've got it all set, you just have to find the guy. Does it have to be a doctor? What's wrong with a lawyer?"

"I guess a lawyer is all right. It is nice to go home to someone who does not have exactly the same problems, I suppose. Mom and Dad were forever talking about their work issues. But then they helped each other."

"Well, if Sarah and her lawyer like each other, then I hope it works," Paul said. "The age difference isn't the end of the world; it's worked before."

"Yeah, I know, Lauren Bacall," Elizabeth said. "Sarah mentioned her."

"Exactly, she was about fifty years younger than Humphrey Bogart," Paul exaggerated. "Sarah would be the expert on it, now!"

Elizabeth laughed, and cuddled closer to him. "She is," she said.

The Irish were friendly, and that included the Gaeltachta. Many of the people there, Quinn found to be most kind when it came to Zander's attempts at their native language.

"This is interesting Quinn, about the warrior queen, Grace O'Malley," Zander said, reading something. "She was also known at the pirate queen."

"I like her already," Quinn said.

"Well, while rebelling against the English - do the Irish ever do anything else besides sing, dance, drink and rebel against the English? – she was forced out of Ireland and into the sea. At age 45! And if that wasn't enough, she gave birth at sea. To her first child. Toby."

"And this was centuries ago?" Quinn said. "No amniocentesis. No ultrasounds."

"It was in the Tudor era. That's the 1500s or 1600s."

"Definitely no advanced maternal age care program."

"And if that weren't enough, some Turkish pirates raided her ship. An hour after giving birth, came out and shot some of them."

"A tough one, was old Grace."

"Something like Quinn Connor, I think. Then at age 63, she sailed up the Thames to parlay with Elizabeth I."

"OK, so we know she survived this pirate raid 18 years earlier."

"Of course she did," Zander said. "Irish pirate queens always win."

Quinn laughed, and then leaned over and kissed him.

"She who kisses in public often kicks in private," said an Irish voice nearby.

Zander and Quinn looked up at the person and laughed.

"She kicks very hard," he said to the elderly man who had quoted the Irish saying. The old man laughed and then said, "And she's a pretty one."


	3. It Depends Who Does the Driving

Duane hung out in the parking lot, walking around it. He hated it. He felt like a teenager stalking Sarah. But he didn't feel right about seeming to ignore her, either.

Sarah and the other three people she had been with finally came out, and all four had their own cars. Duane could pass hers walking to his. All very well and good, if she'd just say goodbye to them and head for her car. The young man had, unfortunately, a compunction to walk Sarah to her car.

He wondered if he should call her instead. But then, luckily, when she pulled out of the parking spot and turned her car in the direction he could use to walk back towards his car.

Though it was dark, she recognized him, and braked.

"Need a ride?" she asked, in that tone of hers. Like a "ride" was something sexual.

He sighed and got in.

She pulled into another spot. "You gotta love this parking lot," Sarah said. "They built it because of the accident. Who says you lawyers aren't a force for good?"

"I saw you in the club," he said, ignoring her comment deliberately. "It felt wrong not to say hello."

"But you could not," she said. "It's OK." She took his hand. She kissed it, slowly. He felt like he was melting. "Whatever you are comfortable with. You don't want to talk to me in front of Elizabeth, don't. You don't know her yet." She leaned over and kissed his mouth, sweetly, for once, gently rather than passionately. "Take you time, baby," she murmured. "It's OK."

He didn't know what to say, so he kissed her back with the same kind of gentleness. It was absurdly ironic that she did all the leading and that she was the one to be so reassuring. Maybe his age did not have quite the effect that would seem most obvious. Usually younger people didn't have the upper hand. Maybe they did in this type of relationship.

"A client gave me tickets to the Buffalo Symphony," he said, presently. "Would you like that?"

"Yes," she said, still holding his hand.

"For real?"

"Yes, for real."

"Classical music."

"I know that the Buffalo Symphony would play that kind," she smiled. "I know it's not Buffalo Springfield. Mozart or Tchaikovsky? Debussy or Ravel? Shostakovich or Copeland?"

"You know more than I do about it," he said, realizing. "Though I have a terrible feeling I grew up listening to the same rock music as your parents. OK."

"Are you going with me?" she asked, smiling wickedly.

"Maybe I will," he said. "If you like."

"I would really like that," she laughed. He smiled in spite of himself.

She leaned over and kissed him slowly, again. "For the record," she said, "My parents were not in such a rush to have children as you and your ex must have been. My parents are around fifteen years older than you."

"Thank God," he said. "Thank you." He pulled her back to another kiss.

Taryn met Clay at his brother's house. The party was in full swing. Everyone there was way past high school. Really cool, Taryn thought.

"This is my brother Hugh," he introduced her. "He's the one giving the party. This is Taryn."

"Hi, Taryn," Hugh said. "It's good to meet you, finally."

"This is my brother Matt," Clay said.

Matt said hello to Taryn in his turn.

"Such a big family," Taryn said.

"Taryn is in Bran's class," Clay said to his brothers.

"She's the youngest, right?" Taryn asked. "Where do you guys fit?"

"Branwyn is the youngest," Clay said. "Then me, I'm second youngest, then up to Hugh, then up to Matt. Or say, first there is Jim, then Jackson, then Melinda, then Colleen, then Mary Ellen, then Matt, Hugh, me and finally Branwyn."

"Holy cow," Taryn said. "You're lucky you can remember all their names."

The three of them laughed. Matt and Hugh talked to her while Clay went to get her a beer. She felt spoiled, a center of attention. By the time Clay came back with the beer, she had learned that Matt was a high school teacher, at Port Charles High.

Clay took her around and introduced her to other people and then got her another beer. She was feeling a little woozy by the time she thought she met one of his other sisters, but she wasn't sure later which one it was.

Later, she saw Clay talking to another guy, and found that she herself was talking to someone else. This someone else seemed to laugh at her jokes, but did not make a big impression on her memory. Someone gave her another beer.

Finally, it seemed Clay came back to her. "Hey, I'm going to drive you home," he said.

"Am I drunk?" she asked. She giggled. "I must be. You look better, you know." She laughed at her own wit.

"Yeah, I always look better to a girl after she's had a couple beers," he said.

"This is my parents' car," Taryn said. "One of them, anyway."

"I'll drive you home in it," Clay said.

"They how are you gonna get home?"

"I'll call one of my brothers."

"You've already done this before. I remember you called a brother then."

"I have plenty of brothers to call," he said.

"You guys are always there for each other," she said.

"And for you," he reminded her.

"Thank your brothers for me," Taryn said. "Your sisters, too, while you're at it," she giggled and hugged him.

He just grinned and belted her into the car.

Alexis smiled, stopping at the threshold of the Outback.

She could see her future parents-in-law, sitting at a table with Nicolai and Anna. The four of them were amazingly companionable. Then at the bar, there was Jerry. The sight of Jerry making drinks always made Alexis smile. And then his brother Jax sitting there, teasing him as usual, and Oksana sitting next to Jax.

It was the family she had made for herself. She hugged herself, as if to hug the baby. "These are your people," she said to the baby. "You are going to love them."

"Good, you're here," Jax said, seeing Alexis. "The double wedding concept. What do you think of it?"

"I like it if you and Oksana are the other couple. What do you think, darling?" she asked Jerry.

"It is all right with me," Jerry said. "It is all right with Jax. It is not totally right to Oksana, because we've all been married before, but Jax never has, and because of that, she thinks Jax should have his own wedding. Did I say that right, Oksana?"

"Yes," Oksana said. "And I am still not sure this is not a joke from him," she said, looking at Jax.

"She thinks I'm kidding her about marrying her," Jax said. To Alexis it seemed that he was delighted rather than panicked.

"You should find that unsettling, Jax," Alexis said out loud.

He only smiled. "I'm going to do this right," he said. "Everyone knows we're getting married, but I haven't done the proper proposal yet. A mere formality. Which I will do right, too."

"Oh, yes," Jerry said.

"With you to help me, brother, how could I go wrong?"

"We don't usually have help for these things," Jerry said.

"You did," Alexis reminded Jerry.

"Oh," Jerry said. "That was motivation, not detail. All right. You helped me Jax, I'll help you."

"I knew I could count on you Jerry."

"You need help," Oksana said to Jax. "You really need a lot of help."

Alexis was laughing by now. "You can't know how much I love this family!" she said.

Clay was driving Taryn home in her mother's car. It was an older car, and hadn't been tended to properly since Taryn's father had moved out.

It stalled a couple of times, and Clay made a remark about spark plugs. Taryn looked drunk enough not to know what spark plugs were, as she just looked at him blankly. Finally, he got it started.

They came to the railroad tracks. Clay slowed down to go over them. The car stalled right over the tracks.

"Damn," he said.

"Hot damn," giggled Taryn.

He tried to start the car, but it wouldn't start.

"We have to get out of the car," he said.

They got out and went to the sidewalk. There was a convenience store on the corner, about one hundred yards from the tracks.

"Let's go there and get help," he said.

"Somebody should stay with the car," she said.

"Oh, come on, Taryn. What can happen? If a train comes are you going to flag it down?"

"Maybe. If a train plowed into that car, I'd be in big trouble."

Clay walked to the store, continually looking back at her, until he disappeared into it.

She liked him for not being such a he-man that he wouldn't allow for her to take care of herself.

She went over to the car and tried it again.

Then she heard a train whistle, and looked up – to her horror, a train was coming.

She tried one more time, realizing she would have to get out in one second. But the car actually lurched forward. She limped it across the tracks and over to the shoulder of the road.

A few seconds later, she heard the train going by. She breathed a big sigh of relief. Then she giggled. "You're one lucky girl, Taryn," she said to herself.

Then she saw Clay walking back, in the rear view mirror and a police car pulling up behind her.

She got out of the car, just as Clay came up and the officer came out of the police car.

"I got it started, Clay," she said. "See, and it's still running. Everything is OK, officer," she said, half laughingly and half mockingly. She stepped back towards the car, but stumbled.

"I have a tow truck coming," Clay said to the officer. "Are you just stopping to see what is going on or responding to the call?"

"I got a call," he said. "But it looks like you've got the problem taken care of." He looked at Taryn. "Have you been drinking?" he asked.

"Um, yeah," she said. "That's why Clay was driving me home. He's really a responsible person, officer."

The officer asked her to touch her finger to her nose. She couldn't quite.

"I have to arrest you for drunk driving," he said.

"I wasn't driving!"

"No, officer Enright," Clay said, reading his name off of his badge. "I was driving."

"Not off the tracks," Officer Enright said. "She just said she was driving."

"But that wasn't driving!" Taryn argued.

Officer Enright just handcuffed her and read her rights to her.

"Call my lawyer!" she yelled to Clay.

At the police station, Taryn was subjected to further indignity, which was, that she had to blow into the breathalyzer or lose her driver's license. "Oh, I admitted I was drinking," she said. "I just wasn't really driving."

By this time, Alexis Davis had come to the station. Clay was with her. He had told her what was happening on the way over. She had told him not to try to drive Taryn's car, but to wait for her to pick him up.

"This is silly," Alexis said to Officer Enright. "Taryn and Clay were specifically trying to comply with the law. Then this series of mishaps occurred. Taryn pulled over right away."

"She was still in a moving vehicle drunk," Officer Enright said. "And she could have been killed trying to get that car off the tracks."

"It was a bit of a risk, just for a piece of property," Alexis said to Taryn, sternly.

"I would have left it to be hit if it hadn't started," Taryn said, starting to wake up.

"Blood alcohol is over the legal limit," Enright said. ".12 reading."

"That's pretty drunk," Alexis informed Taryn, as they went out to a private meeting room. When they got to the room, Alexis closed the door. "If you hadn't been that drunk you would probably never have taken that chance."

"I thought I had avoided getting into trouble over wrecking the car," Taryn said. "I thought I had pulled it off. I even told the cop I was drinking at the party, that was why Clay was driving me home. It is ridiculous. I wasn't driving, driving. But would this go into juvenile court?"

"Probably not. When it comes to driving, you're doing an adult thing."

"Oh," Taryn said, another hope that things would go easy shot down. "I just can't wait for my parents to find out."

"Well, it you're tried as an adult, in theory they don't have to," Alexis said.

"I have money to pay you from the settlement," Taryn said.

"That's locked up under your mother as trustee, until you're eighteen."

"Which is so close now."

"OK, you'll be able to pay me from there. But that has me starting to work first. I will have you sign something."

"Thanks, Alexis."

"Even though you are a minor and could get out of it the day you turn eighteen," Alexis said. "I'll have to trust to your sense of fairness."

"I wouldn't be unfair with you, Alexis!"

"OK," Alexis said. "I think you may have some sort of defense, here. I'm going to look at some cases."

"Thank you!"

"I'll drive you home, so you can deal with the car tomorrow."

"Thank you so much," Taryn said, truly grateful. She felt like Alexis was an angel who had saved her from who knew what fate?

Clay was in the car too, again lecturing Taryn about not going with him and that she had tried to avoid getting into trouble only at the expense of worse.

"I just never looked at it as drunk driving," Taryn said. "If I had thought it would be, I wouldn't even have considered it for a second. I pulled over and I wasn't going to drive one more inch."

"That cop wanted to teach you a lesson," Clay observed.


	4. Zander Returns from his Honeymoon

Zander and Quinn came home from their honeymoon. A limousine awaited them and took them to the gatehouse. Oksana had thought they should be able to get to the house still alone, and Alexis had agreed, saying Oksana was starting to understand romance a lot more.

Zander carried Quinn over the threshold. He put her down, and then gave her a long kiss.

"Now is the start of our lives," he said.

"This is as happy a day as any," she said. "I used to hate coming back from vacations. But this - this is not like that."

"I love you and I will always love you," he said.

"I love you," she said. "And I always will."

Later, Danny, Kathleen, and Brad came over.

"Our first visitors," Zander said.

"I'm glad we are," said Kathleen. "This is a new family."

"The best mother-in-law anyone ever had," Zander said to her, and he hugged her.

"You know, suddenly I feel so much happiness, and you will feel it too, someday," said Kathleen. "You'll see your children fall in love, get married."

"You've seen it once, and you'll see it again," Quinn said. "Tim and Brad - I wonder what women will become part of our family like Zander is now. Crazy women, I would say."

"We know already of one," Danny said. "Diana. Tim thinks he is going to marry her, and what can we do?"

"He's right," Zander said. "He's like his dad, knows his mind early on."

"How did you like Ireland, Zander?" Danny asked.

"I love it," Zander said. "It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen. And the people! They are the best there is."

"It was their main crop at one time," Danny said.

"No," Zander said. "That's rocks."

"Zander loved trying to speak Irish," Quinn said.

"And the people are so nice about it," Zander said. "Totally patient. They really have the gift of gab. None of them need the Blarney Stone."

"Did you kiss the Blarney Stone, Zander?" Brad asked.

"Yep," Zander said. "And come to think of it, I have been talking much more since then. You know what a 'craic' is, Brad? You should. It's a fun, lively chat. We have those over your house all the time. I just didn't know the word for them before."

"Heck, I didn't know that word," Danny said. "But it is an Irish family thing. Sitting around shooting the breeze. Telling jokes."

"We've had quite a few craics in our house," Quinn said.

"Maybe an occasional ballyhooley," Zander said. "That's a telling off. See, I'm learning."

"Yeah, but not as fast as I learn Russian," Quinn said. "Because you don't have a good teacher like I do."

"Oh, I learn plenty from you, nurse," Zander said, putting his arm around her.

"Yeah, she's in charge now, Zander," Danny said. "She runs your life from now on."

"Hey!" Kathleen laughed. "And where would you be today if I had not run your life, Daniel Connor?"

"Hard to say," Danny said. "Very hard to imagine. Fortunately, I'll never know."

"Right Danny, it is lucky for you," Zander said. "Like it is for me."

Matt Delaney faced his class. The honors history class was noisy as usual. This was his first year with them. Previously, he had been stuck with "monster classes." That was what teachers called classes when the bulk of the class members were unambitious academically.

The class was noisy, but the main difference was that once you started the class, they shut up. Nothing new happened. With monster classes, somebody did something to interrupt the class, invariably, at some point during the class period.

Amy Friel sat in the last row. "What were Roosevelt's plans for the economy?" Matt asked her. He loved picking on those who made it a point to sit in the last row. He had done that when he was in school.

"He wanted to prime the pump," Amy answered.

The class laughed.

"Prime the pump," said Matt, knowing that the pump was somehow sexual to them and that was why they were giggling. "What economic theories were behind this desire he had to prime the pump?" Sure enough, they giggled a little more at his clever use of the word "desire."

Maxie Jones raised her hand. "That the government could create jobs by spending money?"

"Yes," Matt said.

"FDR was a socialist," said Amy Friel.

"Labels, labels," said Matt.

Maxie laughed.

"Now if you were FDR, Amy," Matt addressed his student, "what would you have done to avoid socialism, as you term it?"

The class laughed again. They knew Amy couldn't answer that right off.

"Ah, I just thought of a homework assignment," Matt said. The class groaned. "Yes, a short paper on just what else could have been done and an argument for why it would have worked. Or if you want, a defense of Roosevelt's policies."

"Creative," Maxie said.

"You can be creative," Matt said. "For this assignment. Maybe someday you will be as creative and brilliant as I am." The class half laughed, half groaned. Mr. Delaney loved to joke that he was the brilliant one from whom they could learn if they would just pay attention.

Quinn was back at work. She had a new name badge, which said, "Q.Kanishchev." She looked at it whenever there was a lull. She loved it.

Sarah Webber, MD, was at the nurses' station looking at a chart. It appeared this particular intern was headed for surgical oncology, specifically breast cancer surgery. Quinn had a chance to talk to her a little that day, and learned she had considered general practice, or obstetrics and gynecology. But the hospital staff had argued that her hands and her mind were steady and that she was, therefore, an ideal surgeon.

Open minded, Sarah was thinking about that.

"Delivering babies and C-sections need steady hands," Quinn said.

"Now that you are married," Sarah said. "Everyone will bug you about when you're going to have kids. Elizabeth told me. Everyone bugs me about getting married, and Elizabeth assured me there is never any end to these things, because once you do get married, it's 'when are you having a baby?'"

Quinn smiled. "I'm ready to be bugged out that, then. The best part is when you're engaged. Then you get questions about the wedding. Before you are engaged questions about when you're getting married are so annoying. If you don't have a boyfriend, that gets highlighted, if you do, the fact he isn't into marrying you at that point gets highlighted. Or that you are dating someone you're not interested in marrying. But then once you're engaged, it's wonderful! All the questions are fun. Then the honeymoon is great. Nobody bugs you about anything!"

"I'm sure you had a great time on your honeymoon."

"I did," Quinn said. "It is a once in a lifetime experience. You'll find out someday."

"I hope so," Sarah said. "One day."

A few minutes later, Quinn looked up. There was her friend Valerie's mom.

"Mrs. Edwards" she said, not thinking. "Oh, I mean, I'm sorry, Mrs. - "

"Hancock, but that's OK, Quinn," Allison said. "You, and guys in the band, are the only people in the world who I will let continue to call me Mrs. Edwards."

Quinn smiled.

Sarah, distracted from her chart, listened.

"How are you?" Allison said. "I'm here to see Dr. Singh. But you - you have a new last name too, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to say it."

"Oh, everyone can call me nurse K now, Mrs. Edwards," Quinn said. "Kanishchev, well that's so - hard to say when you're not Russian or Russian by marriage."

Allison laughed. "But you're happy abut it."

"Oh, yes, so happy and very proud of it," Quinn said. "It's fun to be able to boggle people's minds with just your name."

Amanda was at Kara's house, helping her with school work. Beth shooed the other children upstairs, so they'd have some peace.

So many people had been generous with time and help since Kara's surgery. The most amazing of these things was Oksana referring Amanda to tutor Kara. Neither Oksana or Amanda would take any money. So she didn't know whether Amanda was volunteering her time or whether Oksana was paying Amanda. Beth and Karl felt grateful to both of them.

The tutoring was allowing Kara to keep up in a way she might not have been able to without it. Kara joked how school must consist mostly of changing classes and standing in line and quieting down, because without everyone else, you could do the actual learning work in two to three hours.

"That's true," Amanda said. "With a tutor, you need far less time. That's one advantage of it. And another is we can work on subjects in the best order for you. We're not limited by the needs of the rest of the class."

"That's how Zander gets through college so fast?" Kara said.

"Partly," Amanda said. "I help him with his way of learning things. He needs to look at things from a different perspective. You on the other hand, are just plain smart in the traditional way."

"Thanks," Kara said. "I really like doing it this way. Then on the other hand, I really want to get back to school. I just have to be back to normal by the time volleyball season starts."

"How's that looking?" Amanda asked.

"Dr. Jones says I should be able to play when my treatments are done," Kara said. "They'll be done like a week into the season. I hate missing even that week. I'm the captain of the team. I can still go to practice. But I'm not sure I can stand sitting there and watching."

"That could be frustrating," Amanda said. "You know my sister Amy? She's on the volleyball team at Port Charles High."

"She is? I don't know her, but I might remember her face if I saw her. My cousin is a teacher over there."

"Your family is everywhere!" Amanda laughed.

"Which ones do you know?" Kara asked. "Besides me, and Branwyn?"

"I know Jackson. He's flown Zander and I places, for Zander's history lessons."

"Oh, he loves that," Kara said. "I've heard him talking about it. He has no other clients doing such an interesting thing. I guess I should have realized that was you. You and Zander."

"We never take Peter," Amanda said. "I think it must be the scheduling – when we did those trips, it was during school hours. Peter could have learned from them too."

"He did, some, I guess, secondhand," Kara said. "Then Zander went out on his own. He gave us the tour of Fort Niagara. That was the first date I had with Peter."

"Aw, that's sweet, your first date," Amanda said. "And Zander out on his own. Yeah, I like that. It is always wonderful to have a student follow in your footsteps."


	5. An Irritant to Society

So far, Taryn had been able to avoid anyone else finding out about her arrest for Driving Under the Influence.

The judge had let her go on her own recognizance. Alexis had convinced him that, as a high school senior, Taryn would prefer to graduate rather than flee the jurisdiction over a DUI charge. She didn't have a job or money. Her mother was just starting to go through a divorce.

The judge had asked Taryn whether she would show up for court. "If you don't, the police will have a bench warrant for your arrest, and could show up at your house or at school with it. This isn't going to go away just because you don't show up. In fact, it will get worse if you don't show up."

"I understand," Taryn said.

So, figuring that the warning and the fact that Alexis Davis represented her would work together to make sure she would show up, the judge had let Taryn go.

Taryn ran out to get the mail every day. Fortunately, she could get it before her mother returned from work. This way, when the notice of the court date came, Taryn would get a hold of it before her mother would. Taryn wasn't sure her mother would be really upset at her over this incident. She just felt like it was something her mother didn't really need to deal with just now.

Alexis saw Duane in the courthouse again and asked him to go to lunch. "Let me tell you about this case," she said.

"That's a good one," Duane said, after Alexis had described Taryn's case. "What a story!"

"I went back to review the defenses to crime," Alexis said. "And lo and behold. Remember, from law school, the necessity defense?"

"A little. Is this a public or a private necessity?"

"You know, I could see a little public. If the train hit the car, it would have been damaged. Stopped. Someone could have gotten hurt."

"Your drunk teen is a heroine!"

"Could be. Yes, the more I think about it. She saved the public from an inconvenience to a train."

"She may even have saved someone's life," Duane said.

"Basically, the necessity defense is this:" Alexis said, "where someone must decide, in an emergency situation, to commit what is otherwise a crime, to avoid imminent public or private injury, which was not the result of defendant's conduct. So naturally the D.A. will say something like, it was her fault the car was on the tracks."

"But is it her fault that the car stalled there?"

"Maybe," said Alexis. "But it wasn't intentional on her part."

"Yes, that should come into play, I think," said Duane. "It should make a difference whether it is something the defendant intentionally did versus something that just happened."

"Then we have the balancing test," Alexis said, "That the desirability and urgency of avoiding such injury clearly outweighs the desirability of avoiding the injury sought to be prevented by the statute defining the offense in issue. So that means the desirability and urgency of the train not hitting an empty car outweighs the desirability of avoiding drunk driving."

"Drunk driving can get someone killed."

"But once that actually happens, the offense isn't just drunk driving, but vehicular homicide or assault."

"Oh, I see. You've got a point. Just drunk driving by itself is the offense committed. And maybe you can commit that offense to avoid the damage. And you've got the fact she did stop. So that was all the driving she was going to do."

"Yes, so we're talking just drunk driving where no one gets hurt. And someone could have gotten hurt, maybe, someone on the train, or like you said, someone on the street from flying debris. I think I would have done the same thing. No, I wouldn't have. I'd have thought I was going to get hit by the train."

"A few seconds avoids a tragedy."

"Tell me about it. Kids these days!"

"You're about to find out."

"Yes, I am. Well, this child of mine is not going to drive anywhere!"

"Oh, yes this child will, at age sixteen, want to drive like all the rest of them. And like you and I."

"Ah, well, I've got a long time yet before I have to think about it. Maybe by then there will be no such thing as cars."

Duane laughed. "Just transporters."

"Yeah, something like Star Wars. Or Star Trek. Like that."

Mary Ellen Delaney was a reporter for the _Port Charles Gazette_. She went to the police station. Sometimes, she found, Detective Taggart was willing to comment on a thing or two.

"Oh, here's the press," he said when he saw her, "who are you after today?"

"Who are you after?" she asked him. "That's the question."

"Nothing big. It's a slow week for crime."

"That's good, actually."

"The biggest bit this week is the high school bimbo who drove her car off the train tracks."

"That doesn't sound like a problem, even."

"She got arrested for drunk driving. I thought that was rich. She only moved the stalled car off the tracks. But when an officer came along, he noticed she was drunk. She admitted it right out, but said she was only moving the car off the tracks."

"How did the car get onto the tracks? She must have been driving then."

"It was a friend of hers, who had gone to get help when the car stalled."

"Oh, I see. She doesn't sound like a menace to society."

Taggart laughed. "She's not a menace to society. More like an irritant to society."


	6. What Can Happen to Older Men

The Buffalo Symphony played Rachmaninoff's _Piano Concerto Number 2_, Mozart's _Symphony Number 40_, and the _Suite Espanola_ by Isaac Albeniz. Duane read the program and tried to understand the symphony. He wondered if Sarah would fall asleep, like Valerie did when he had brought her and Yvonne to the symphony once before. Yvonne had listened, her musical abilities and cultivation apparently enough to keep her interested in this variation. Valerie, however, had laid her head on his shoulder and fallen asleep.

Sarah linked her arm through his and leaned her head against his shoulder in the darkness. But she did not go to sleep. She didn't yawn. Maybe she really did understand classical music. Maybe she really wasn't bored.

When the lights turned up, she stood up, and as they walked out, she didn't take his hand. He realized she let him decide whether he'd look like her date in public.

There was a bit of a crowd bottlenecked at the door getting out. "Hey, Duane," he turned as he heard a voice call his name.

A few feet away, he saw Frederick "Rick" Friel, who he had gone to college with. Rick had been in his wedding and he had been in Rick's. They had seen each other sporadically only over the past ten years or so, however.

"Hi, Rick," he said.

He stopped a little, to let Rick catch up to him.

"This is my daughter Amy," Rick said, indicating a teen aged girl who was with him. "I dragged her here to get some decent music into her head."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Dad, it was great. Like so cool. All the kids at school are jealous."

"You'll thank me some day," Rick said to her, laughing.

"I like the cymbals," Amy said. "They made a lot of noise."

"If you like noise, my daughter Yvonne has a rock band you'll really like," Duane grinned at her.

"Oh, yeah, how's that band going?" Rick said.

"It's going. Loudly."

Rick patted him on the shoulder. He noticed Sarah. "Hey, is this Valerie?" Rick asked Duane.

"No," Duane said.

"Sarah Webber," Sarah introduced herself. "Nice to meet you." She shook Rick's hand.

"Oh, sorry," Rick said. "I haven't seen Valerie in years. Obviously."

At the most expensive restaurant in Buffalo, where you didn't order but just accepted what the chef wanted to create, Sarah poured herself a glass of wine.

"Someday I'm going to drive, so you drink instead," she said. "Or I'll hire a limo. You're the one that needs loosening up."

"Yes," he said. "It is interesting to watch you do the most mundane things. Your hands are so sure. It's like that wine could never spill."

"Thank you."

"You'd have made a good physical therapist, with those hands."

"I'll be _your_ physical therapist," she said, smiling as she put the bottle down.

"Stop," he said.

She just laughed at him.

"You brought your troubles on yourself, Duane," she said. "If you'd just let me take your arm, or hold my hand, your friend would have known I was your date."

"Yes," he said. "I guess you're right." Duane thought Rick had looked shocked. But if he hadn't been so shy about it, Rick would have just looked that way when he'd first seen them, but wouldn't have made the guess that she was Valerie.

"And he had daughters on the brain, because he dragged his own little brat there to improve her mind," Sarah added.

"Yes," Duane said. That was, in fact, very true. Maybe the shock had just been from Rick's own preconceived idea not being the case. Maybe it wasn't shock, but just surprise.

Sarah had a knack for getting him to feel better. It was clever, he felt, of her, to call Amy a "little brat." It emphasized that she was much older than Amy. Really, he thought, Sarah would have been a brilliant lawyer.

"Wonder why he didn't bring his wife?" Sarah was saying.

"He's a widower."

"Oh, that's too bad. She must have been young. What happened?"

"Cancer. Breast cancer."

"Oh, my," Sarah said. "It's a killer. I may end up doing surgery for that."

"You'll be good at it."

She took his hand. "OK?" she asked. "It's a rather secluded place and you don't know anyone here."

"OK," he said. "You're right, anyway."

"It's OK."

"Sometimes it actually feels like you are more mature than I am."

"Men are always babies," she grinned. "No matter how long they live."

"Yeah, right," he said. "Is your father one?"

"Sometimes," she said. "When he gets sick, even though he's a doctor, he's the biggest pain in the neck you ever saw."

"OK, I'll take that excuse for now."

"You don't need one - it doesn't matter how old I am. You'd still have your trust issues. If your wife can leave you for another man after twenty plus years of marriage, no one expects you to trust a new woman, if she's your age, your sign, your nationality, or different."

"You're smarter than I am too," he said. "You just said in five seconds what I should have figured out over the last year."

"Men don't think," she said.

"Onto your male bashing again, eh? We'll see about that. But see, those are bad issues. Maybe they shouldn't be visited on someone as young as yourself."

"I can handle anything," she declared. "If they're your issues. Some guy my age would have his own. Take your time," she said, again. "You may be ready to be seen with me in Port Charles some day."

"That's a good - test. Some things, a person should maybe jump into before they are ready, a little before, or they never are."

"You know something?" she said, her eyes narrowing as she moved her hands moved across his, "The lust I had for you? It just doubled."

"Oh, come on."

"You - never mind. Rachmaninoff's piano concerto has some very haunting melodies, doesn't it?"

"Yes. It really sounds that way to one used to hearing the Dissenters."

"Yvonne's band? No haunting melodies?"

He laughed. "None."

"I like the original of the G minor symphony. Mozart originally wrote it with no clarinets."

"You got that from the program."

"I can read, can't I?"

"Well, that you even tried - I'm sure Amy Friel didn't read it."

She laughed.

"Neither did Valerie, whenever I've taken her. She just goes to sleep. Yvonne listens, but she wouldn't read the program. Only decide for herself."

"Does Yvonne like the cymbals, because they make a lot of noise?"

"Probably."

"Do you really like Yvonne's music?"

"Not always. I'm not sure if that band's music is what I would choose. I just support it unconditionally."

"That's understandable."

"She doesn't listen to my opinion, anyway."

"Are you sure? Maybe she takes it into account."

"I guess she might. We raised her to think for herself."

"That's good. Are they close, Valerie and Yvonne?"

"I like to think so. I'm not sure."

"You think they would be freaked out if they knew you were dating a woman almost their age?"

"No. Valerie thinks it's just fine," he said. Sarah smiled, pleased he had already apparently been talking of her with one of his daughters. "Yvonne would be - she'd be - intrigued, might be the best way to describe it."

"My sister, who is married to a psychiatrist, has always been, unfortunately, compared to me. So we're not always close."

"Maybe he can get her mind straightened out."

Sarah laughed. "He's done wonders, actually. So maybe there is hope. I think it's that she feels left out, because she's different, and my parents didn't always do a good job of making her feel like she was equal and just different. Her grades were always average or poor and she always had to hear about how mine were good."

"So she's an artist, you said? She didn't need good grades. Yvonne doesn't. It might be a liability. Yvonne has two songs about teachers that would - well, artistic types don't need good grades."

"That's a good point, I'll tell Elizabeth that sometime. Or get someone else to tell her, because she doesn't take anything well from me. And Yvonne sounds interesting."

"Hang out with me too long and you could end up finding yourself in a song."

"Really? Are there songs that you're in?"

"Some lines sometimes either refer to me or mean Yvonne turned out to think a lot like me."

"Oh, man, does that sound interesting. Rachmaninoff pales."

"They're your ears," he said, laughing.

Taryn and Toby were walking through the park.

She had such a terrible week. She couldn't tell him anything.

She wished she were with Clay. Then she could talk about what was bothering her.

But Toby couldn't know of it.

Later, they were in bed, but when they were done, Toby didn't say much. He just lay there with an arm around her.

Taryn's mind wandered. Toby was always kind of thoughtful. He seemed to be aware of her, and asked her things. Clay was less so. He was somehow more selfish - sometimes it was as if she could be anyone. He just did things without talking to her. But the strange thing was, that it was more exciting with Clay. More orgasms, too.

Weird. What did this mean?

So long as she was comparing, she tried to remember Jeremy. But it was a blur. He just wasn't good in bed, Taryn thought, smugly. That's why he was dating Branwyn, who had probably zero experience. He'd always do that, she thought. So they'd never know what a dud he was.

"What are you thinking about?" Toby asked her.

There was no way she could answer that truthfully. In fact, what could she be thinking about that wasn't something she just couldn't tell him? Him.

"You," she said.

"How nice," he said.

"And how nice it is to just be here with you. Not having to think about anything."

"What could you have to think about that's bad?"

"School. Grades. Mom and Dad getting a divorce. Dad going off with a bimbo. My injury, flaring up. Yours ever bother you?"


	7. Your Mistakes Can End Up in the Paper

Zander was in the study room at the house, teaching Mikhail some English. Amanda came in. She had been helping him, too.

She and Zander were looking at what he would take in summer session. "With all this, you can student teach in the fall."

Zander's eyes shone. He was starting to pull this together. It might really happen.

Later he read the local paper. There was an interesting incident described in one article. A juvenile, whose name could not be listed, had driven under the influence of alcohol, but only enough to get her car off the railroad tracks. A friend and witness was Clay Delaney, a local bartender and student, who had driven the car until it stalled there. He had not been drunk, the article emphasized, but driving the juvenile home, when the car stalled. He'd gone to get help, and when he did that, a train came towards the crossing, and the juvenile managed to get the car started and limp it to the road shoulder. The cops came and arrested the juvenile for DUI.

"Crazy," Zander said to himself.

Kara saw that item in the paper, too, and showed it to Peter at school. "I hope Clay isn't in trouble," she said.

"Doesn't look like it," Peter said. "I can't see that he did anything wrong."

Kara wanted to stay after school for volleyball practice.

"I have one more treatment next week," she explained. "But I can watch."

"Strategize," he said. "Observe the rest of the team."

"Yeah, like that," she said. "You have baseball practice?"

"Starting this week. And I have to keep skating to stay in shape. Dad is going to Yekaterinburg to coach Irina for a couple of weeks. And my uncle thinks Dad can convince Tatiana, that's her mother, that she is such a talent she should stay in the U.S. where he can coach her and I."

"So he needs to convince Tatiana that you're a big talent, too!"

"That's right. I'll wish him good luck with that!"

In the hall, Jeremy and Branwyn were walking.

"What happened to Clay, Branwyn?" Jeremy asked.

"Nothing, really," Branwyn said. "He was just a bystander. But he could get called as a witness. The district attorney could need him to prove the driver was drunk."

"Who was this juvenile?"

"Clay won't say."

"Are you suspicious?"

"There's only one juvenile he'd be with," Branwyn said. "I mean, if it wasn't me."

"And it wasn't you?"

"No!"

"The T person?"

"I wouldn't mind betting a big sum of cash on it."

"Me neither," Jeremy grinned.

Rick Friel went to Kelly's to meet his daughter for a cup of coffee. On the way in, he saw Sarah Webber and another girl coming out.

Cordially, he said hello to her.

"Did your daughter like Rachmaninoff at all?" she asked. "This is my sister, Elizabeth. This is Rick, he's a friend of Duane's."

"She liked some of it, though she won't admit it. Sorry about my mistake. Are you a relative of Duane's?"

"No," Sarah said.

"You're not - you're too young for him."

"That's up to he and I, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess, but what do you see in it? Money?"

"I'm a doctor," Sarah said, then she changed tracks, "If you'll excuse me, the stereotypes are getting a little too thick around here."

"Don't know what else you can expect, Sarah," Elizabeth said, as they walked away. "This is just the beginning."

"I'll get used to it," Sarah declared.

Elizabeth sighed. When Sarah was determined, she was determined.

"I'll come up with some standard replies," Sarah went on.

"Think of one for 'you must have some kind of father fixation,'" Elizabeth said.

"OK. Let me see. OK, I have one. I already have a perfectly good father, thank you."

"Money?"

"I'm a doctor! That was good enough, I think."

"And there are worse people than just friends of his - what if his daughters don't like it?"

"Rick is not a close friend. He guessed that I was Valerie, for heaven's sake. If he was such a close friend, he would know what Valerie looked like."

"I don't know, Sarah. People can get busy and lose touch and not know each other's children that well. Think about it. Mom and Dad have very good friends in Colorado who might not recognize us."

"A real friend is still in touch," Sarah said. "Anyway, Valerie and Yvonne are likely to be OK with it."

"How do you know that?"

"Duane says so."

"Like you think Dad can predict what you and I will think of anything?"

"Not everything, but bigger things, probably. Don't be absurd, Elizabeth. He knows us better than you might think. He raised us! It's like Duane said, he can tell from some of Yvonne's lyrics what she is thinking, where other people couldn't."

"You might feel differently once you meet them, Sarah. It might really hit you then, that Valerie is really your age and could be a friend of yours. You aren't like a mother figure to her."

"I've always known he was older. It might hit me as you say, stronger, still it's Duane I picked. That's not going to give way to secondary considerations. Other guys might have their own secondary considerations, even if they were my age. If I went out with AJ or Jason, they'd be closer to my age, but the secondary consideration would be the Quartermaines. You did enough complaining about them yourself."

"OK, you have a point. And these secondary considerations are at least predictable. Standard May-December comments. Money and father fixations. Does he like you for real, or just as arm candy?"

"There's no question of that. He'd be eager to get involved with me, not careful. He's more careful than you could be. If I were too immature for him, I'd have quit long ago."

"One of his daughters could have kids soon, and you'd be like a grandmother."

Sarah laughed.

"Well," Elizabeth said, "Have you thought about how you could be wasting your time, because he might not want any more children?"

"If he feels that way, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. That could be true with any younger guy, too."

"But maybe more likely with one who thought he'd already had his children."

"You could be right, but there's no reason he can't have more even if he hadn't planned it. You can only plan your life so much when it comes to these things. I could marry someone who is infertile but my age."

"OK, you make sense. You know what you're doing. "

"Thanks you for being such a sounding board. You came up with some good thoughts, Elizabeth."

"I'm glad. I really want it to work out if he is right for you and will make you happy, Sarah."

Back inside Kelly's, Amanda Friel drank coffee with her father.

"Well, that was a mean thing to say, Dad," Amanda said. Rick had told her of his two meetings with Sarah Webber. "You have no way of knowing. There have been May-December romances in the past."

"And they have those same facts," Rick said. "And Duane is not the type just to exploit her as a sort of, trophy, you know."

"Well, maybe she is not the type to exploit him, either," Amanda said.

"It's just that, we were in each other's weddings, and -"

"Now you have in common that you are unexpectedly single," Amanda said.

"But the reasons are so different," Rick said. "he's in much worse shape. That had to hurt, Allison leaving. I'm just worried, that's all."

"About yourself, or him?"

"I wouldn't even consider a woman that young."

"Did they look that bad together?"

"It's not that. They looked OK. You can just tell how young she is. She has a kind of elegance to her, but you can still see that she's so much younger."

"Don't you remember Valerie at all, Dad? She's cute, but elegant is a word I would never use to describe her."

"I'm trying to picture her. I just can't. How can you remember her?"

"I was never great friends with her, but I saw her at games, when PCH was playing Mercy, or some of those parties of you and your school friends. When we were little, we played."

"It'd be like you dating Duane!"

"But it's not, when she didn't know him. He knew me when I was a little girl, but not this woman."

"I hope not. He wouldn't remember you, maybe."

"He might have a better memory for faces than you do, Dad!" Amanda laughed and patted her father's arm, affectionately. "But Dad, at least don't judge this girl when you don't know her yet. She could be crazy about Duane for all you know. You were assuming things."

"I guess I was. But I won't be the only one who does it."

"And her. So how is Amy? I should get together with her. Teenagers can get so amazingly busy with their friends and school and activities."

"She's out and about all the time. And playing volleyball. And studying. Lately she's been complaining about that Delaney who is her history teacher, giving her an assignment about FDR. Apparently she announced to the class that FDR was a socialist, and Delaney gave her an assignment on what FDR should have done differently."

Amanda laughed. "And she's having a hard time solving the problem of the Depression a different way?"

"Yes, she is."

"I'll see if Zander can help her. He is really good at seeing alternatives."

"Yeah, and get Jackson to lean on his brother to back off."

Amanda laughed again. "No, Jackson would never do that! He knows I'd congratulate Matt. Exactly what I would have done."


	8. A Determined Young Woman

Duane was reading the _Port Charles Gazette_ while on the exercise bicycle, and smiled when he saw the item that obviously referred to Alexis' client.

He got off, and noticed Sarah doing a work out in a room he was passing. He didn't say anything to her, as he rarely saw her actually working out and figured he could leave her alone without interrupting that.

She was doing a set of exercises, and he felt a vague interest in it. He had clients who had similar programs, other clients, but usually just heard it all described rather than seeing it in action.

She was holding her leg at one particular point for what was obviously some prescribed number of seconds. She winced in pain a little, but kept to it for however long the physical therapist had prescribed.

His heart went out to her. He had read the reports and so he knew exactly what her injuries had been. Yet even to one with as much knowledge as he had, it usually wasn't evident how much it was affecting her.

He could see her determination right there. She had an iron will. He already knew something about that.

He went off to the shower. He had to get to court in time, or Judge Ottinger would give him hell.

In the pool and Jacuzzi section of the gym, Alexis had taken her daily swim. The hot tub was out of the question for the time she was pregnant. She missed it, but took the time to sit and read. It was a good place for that.

Presently, she looked up and saw Sarah Webber in the hot tub.

"Hey," she said to Sarah. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, my injury? I'm coming along. The exercises are starting to do some good."

"You won't need another surgery, will you?"

"Well, I hope not. Not for the immediate future, anyway. I've been able to do anything I need to do at work. Only horseback riding is what I'm not quite up to yet. Still, there's hope. But so far working out here is like a substitute for riding."

Eventually Sarah got out and sat in the chair next to Alexis', drying off a little.

"Duane must be in court," Alexis said.

"Too bad," Sarah said, grinning.

"Patti Polk was sitting with us the other evening, in the London Underground," Alexis said. "She said it was too bad Jason Quartermaine has a girlfriend, because he is perfect for you. She described all you have in common. Both doctors, with both parents being doctors and working in the same hospital as both parents."

Sarah rolled her eyes and smirked. "Patti got that idea straight from Elizabeth," was all she said.

"We were all there," Alexis said. "Duane said you and Jason must have enough in common to drive each other nuts, or something like that."

Sarah's eyes widened. She looked off, and smiled. "We over at our table were saying Duane and Patti had too much in common. Elizabeth, my sister, was all for them getting together, and we were saying they would have trust issues up to the ceiling."

"I think you're right," Alexis said.

"See, Alexis, I may be young, but I have some experience. I've had my heart broke. People have all kinds of problems. One for instance, they don't want to be committed. I've dated guys who can't do it, period, no matter how much they love. That's a bad issue too. It goes right to the heart of the relationship and how it must end, and how much time do you want to spend on something you know must end? So it goes. Mere chronological age is nothing to that."

"No, it's not. I've run into that too, believe you me. Before I met Jerry, I dated so many guys. My first husband was a non-committer, or at least, he figured that out about a year after the wedding. I was one too, really. But you, could you do it?"

"I could in the right circumstances. I'm not afraid of it, or hung up on not being ready for it. No one's ever ready for it, not if they expect a certainty. Duane knows there's none, he's not sure of himself, he might not trust another woman after that divorce, at least not right away, but he knows that eventually one has to take a chance. I'd rather have that quality than the superficial ones, like we're the same age, we're the same sign, whatever other ridiculous things are supposed to make people stay together."

"Jerry had two bad marriages that were short and long ago, long ago like mine, but for years seems to have had the idea he was no good at it. But he got over it."

"How?"

"Zander and Quinn fixing us up, and being encouraging. His family being encouraging," Alexis laughed. "His younger brother is the greatest. He gave him the right support, somehow. They are amazing, this family. Sometimes I envy them, but I get to be one of them now. And so does my kid."

"That sounds so wonderful. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you. We've really had a lot of support. That's important."

"I don't, so far, anyway."

"I can give you a little. I can tell from talking to you that you know your own mind. You know what you're after, and they aren't the superficial things. I know a zillion women older than you that can't figure it out. Includes me, up to this very year."

"Thank you, Alexis. That means something to me."

Sarah's sister Elizabeth was in her boxcar studio, along with her friend V. Ardanowski, a police detective who also painted. V. was mixing paints and Elizabeth was reading the _Port Charles Gazette_.

"Oh, Taryn," Elizabeth said to the newspaper.

"What is it?" V. asked.

Elizabeth showed V. the article.

"It could only be Taryn," Elizabeth said. "I know she went to a party with Clay Delaney."

"There's always hope it's someone else."

"Maybe. But Taryn is a juvenile and she went to a party with Clay Delaney that same night."

"This town is so small, not printing the names of juveniles takes on a sort of silliness," V. said.

"You bet," Elizabeth grinned. "I don't think Patti even knows, or she'd have called Paul by now."

"But how could Taryn keep a DUI charge secret from Patti?"

"Who knows? Yeah, it would be hard. Wouldn't Patti even have to come and get her? Maybe Clay was able to bail her out and get her out. But would a juvenile not have to go with their parents?"

"Normally, but if she's charged as an adult, maybe she is treated, procedurally as an adult."

"They'd do that? Why?"

"Anything having to do with driving they will charge as adult."

"Oh, I can see why, too," Elizabeth said. "Taryn, she thinks she's an adult."

"When I was her age, I passionately believed that about myself, too," V. said.

"Well, yes, I would be the same," Elizabeth said. "I did a few silly things. But Taryn - she has this knack for getting into trouble."

"Sounds like someone who could turn up pregnant."

"Bite your tongue, V.!"

"OK, OK, I don't want the universe to come down upon me."

"Don't even put that idea into the ether."


	9. Quartermaine Mansion

Ned Ashton was interested in getting a few gigs. A rock star at one time, he liked to keep his hand in by playing locally every once in a while.

He owned stock in a record company, L & B records, and liked to scout local talent whenever he had the chance. Most of the time, his job at ELQ kept him busy, but sometimes there were lulls that allowed him to engage in his hobbies.

The London Underground was a new club, and Ned wasn't sure if they'd be interested in his kind of music. His cousin, Skye, worked publicity there and a few times had assured him they wouldn't be interested. But Ned took his cousin's opinions with a grain of salt always, when it came to music, or anything else at all.

So he went and played for the manager. He got a gig for Thursday nights.

Amused, he decided not to tell his cousin, Skye. Then he'd just be there when she came in to work. It would be fun to see her jaw drop.

Over at Joanna's house, Joanna and A.J. were getting ready to go out. They were going to meet Jason and Maureen at the Outback Restaurant. "Look at this story."

"Man, I'm glad my drinking days are over," AJ said to Joanna.

Joanna was combing her hair, but she went over the to bed and sat next to him and looked with him at the _Port Charles Gazette._

"Lucky juvenile," Joanna said. "Who could have gotten killed."

When they got to the Outback, Jason and Maureen were already there, talking to Jerry Jacks, the owner.

"Jerry Jacks was saying maybe you could look at his brother's company," Jason told AJ, after Jerry Jacks had sat them down.

"You think Jax would ever hire me?" A.J. asked.

"You never know until you try," Jason said.

"That idea Skye had about everybody moving in," Joanna said, after they sat down. "Maybe it's not practical now. But there was some sense in it."

"No," AJ said. "You'd hate it."

"It would be different there," Joanna said. "Skye sort of gave me that picture - my kids, me, Maureen, let's say, just for sake of argument. We outnumber them. Sean, even."

"You're putting yourself in the same house with Sean," Jason said to Joanna.

"It's a big house."

"No house is that big," AJ said.

"The thing is, there you don't have the breakdown, the disowning, all that horrible stuff," Joanna said. "I'm afraid of feeling bad for you, A.J., for that and feeling like I made this big hole in your life."

"You don't make that hole," AJ said. "They do."

"It is what they say they want," Maureen said. "For everyone to move in. Isn't it? It's what they claim to want. So if they get it, can they really complain?"

"They won't complain and they'll accept you," AJ said. "But at the same time, that doesn't mean they won't make your life difficult."

"What about the dilution factor?" Maureen asked. "Grandfather can only try to run so many people's lives at a time. Skye did see something of - kids around would mellow grandfather out. He's not hard on Michael is he?"

"Not yet," AJ said.

"Kurt and Heather aren't his own grandchildren, so they don't have to be perfect. Skye seemed to think he wouldn't try to run their lives, but he'd play with them."

"I don't want them to take up any burden of grandfather's behavior and neither do you," AJ said.

"But are you certain it would be a burden?" Joanna fiddled with a fork. "Maybe he would be giving towards them. Give them advice, and letting them run with it."

"Like he should for his own grandchildren and great grandchildren?" AJ asked, rhetorically.

"Yeah, he's really got things backwards," Jason observed.

"Say we had our own living room, kitchen?" Maureen said. "Would they accept that? That way we don't run into them as much. But we're there."

"That's a thought," Jason said. "Hire our own assistants even. That would be tough for the rest of the family to oppose. They would probably try, though, say it wasn't necessary and realize it was to get away from them - yet Mom and Dad at least might understand that."

"We don't have to decide right now," Maureen said. "Just some thoughts."

"I can see the beauty in the idea of descending upon them," Jason said. "We need Sean and even Wylie, maybe. Maybe we can talk a few nurses into moving in, too."

"How about a few homeless people?" AJ said.

"Thank you for backing me up," Maureen said to Jason, later, when they were alone.

"Now to see if you really are willing to act on it," he said, grinning.

"What are you up to?" Maureen asked.

"Spend the night with me," he said. "But at my place."

Maureen tilted her head up. "No problem," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"Am I going to turn down a night with you? Not likely."

"At your place maybe, but at mine?"

"You knew I would."

"I love you," he said.

She just smiled.

They arrived at the Quartermaine mansion, and were able to go up to his room without running into any of his ancestors or collateral relatives.

"So far, so good," Maureen said. "This backs up what Joanna told me. You can come in and out at will."

He closed the door and locked it. "I don't have to lock it, really," he said. "Nobody comes up here. But I know you won't feel like that's true, at first."

"Thank you for doing it," Maureen said. "You tend to be very considerate."

"Of you, I am."

"Oh, go on," she said, putting her arms around him.

He smiled, and kissed her, slowly, as he pushed her farther into the room.

"You really intend to make love to me under your parents roof?" she asked, giggling.

"Anywhere," he said. "You can see if you're comfortable in this house. If you're not, we'll know we can abandon that idea."

"Yeah," she smiled. They lay down on his bed. Soon, she forgot where she was anyway.


	10. Bartender from Russia

Mikhail was getting to the point where if he had heard of a drink before, he understood the English word for it.

Toby came up to the bar. "Let me have a coke, Mikhail," he said.

Three women who bore some resemblance came in and sat at the bar.

Colleen, Melinda and Mary Ellen Delaney frequently got together after work to relax. Colleen was a counselor, Melinda a domestic relations lawyer, and Mary Ellen a reporter. The three sisters were close in age and had always been close.

"If they charge this juvy as an adult, how come you can't print her name?" Melinda asked Mary Ellen.

Toby could hear them talking, and he half listened.

"We could, but sometimes we don't just because we are required to, and it avoids complaints."

"It's considerate," Colleen said.

"Even a newspaper is considerate at times," Melinda said.

"Sure," Mary Ellen grinned. "Especially the _Port Charles Gazette_. The public won't suffer. She's not a major criminal or anything. It's not as if people have to look out for her in a big way."

"She even helped avoid a big accident," Colleen observed.

"That's true," Mary Ellen said. "I think it's kind of overdoing it to charge her with Driving Under the Influence. Technically, she did it. Nobody ever looks at the technicalities from that side. They're always saying someone gets off on a technicality, but here, someone is being charged on a technicality."

"I hope the penalty at least reflects that," Melinda said. "They could make it minimal. Community service, say."

Clay came over to them. "Sitting here instead of at one of the tables?" he asked his three sisters.

To Mary Ellen, he said, "I'm not going to tell you her name."

Toby listened more. Somehow, the conversation got more interesting when it involved the bartender.

Mary Ellen laughed. "I know who it is, Clay," she said. "She is charged as an adult. I just didn't print her name."

"Then why'd you print mine?"

"You didn't do anything wrong!"

"Now everyone asks me about it."

"Tries to find out who she is, eh? Well, how does she cover this with her mother?"

"The car broke down."

"And you took her home."

"Yes. Simple, really."

"It still makes me nervous she's not 18 yet," Melinda said.

"Just a few more weeks," Clay said.

"Let me take this order," Mikhail said to Clay.

"You're welcome to them," Clay grinned.

The three sisters gave their orders to Mikhail.

"He's so cute, that bartender," Mary Ellen said. "He speaks a little better English every week."

"You talk to him?" Colleen asked.

"Not that much," said Mary Ellen. "Enough to know he knows a new word or two."

"And to observe that he's cute," Melinda said, smiling. "I like his dark hair and dark eyes. Where's he from?"

"His name's Mikhail," Mary Ellen said.

"Not Miguel?"

"Hey, Mikhail," Mary Ellen said. "Tell my sister your name."

"Mikhail," said Mikhail to Melinda.

"Do you come from Russia?" Melinda asked.

"Duh," said Mary Ellen. "Like Sergei, the owner, Melinda."

"Yes," Mikhail said, politely. "I American now."

"Oh, yes," Colleen laughed. "You're an immigrant."

"Yes," Mikhail said. "Legal."

The three sisters laughed. "Don't worry, Mikhail," Colleen said, thinking Mikhail wouldn't understand her, only her sisters, "you're cute enough to stay even if you aren't!" Her sisters cracked up anew. Mikhail smiled a little, going along with the humor without knowing what was funny.

Toby went to his Mom's house, to find the _Port Charles Gazette_ for yesterday. There were none left in the vending machines. It wasn't a high run paper. He found the article. It had a byline of Mary Ellen Delaney.

He read the article. It was a weird story, really. But nothing really bad had happened. There was more than one girl in the world who be turning 18 in a few more weeks. Taryn just mentioned it so often, was all. He had this on the brain. He wondered if it was Clay's sister. But Clay had not seemed to be talking about a sister. How she was going to cover it with her mom resounded in his head, too. But that would be true of any 17 year old girl. But then why didn't they say "parents" or "Mom and "Dad?" It was a big coincidence that this girl had a mother only at home.

And it all sounded like something Taryn would do.

But that didn't mean she was the one who had done it.

It was just strange.


	11. Easter

Maureen woke up, and was confused for a minute. Where am I? she thought.

She smiled lazily, looking over at Jason. He was asleep. She stroked his hair. She looked the room over again. It felt private enough. She tried to listen. She didn't hear any noise. It was a very large house. Right now, it felt possible to live here and have some privacy.

The night had been wonderful. As always. She had an ability to get him to let go, loosen up. His fabled self control was gone when he was with her.

He stirred a little. "Hey," she said, pulling him into her arms.

"You're still here," he murmured.

She laughed, "Why wouldn't I be, silly?"

"Nervous being in this house."

"It's quiet, so far," she said. "But what do you have to do to get a cup of coffee in this house?"

"Go downstairs, or call the cook on the phone," he said.

"I think I'll try – going downstairs," she said.

When they were dressed, they went downstairs. The big living room/dining room area, with its floor length French doors leading out into the garden, was empty, except for the smell of coffee, and fruit and croissants on the sideboard.

"Fancy," she said. "Where is everybody?"

"Still in bed or out already," Jason said. "Sometimes you get lucky." He poured her a cup of coffee.

She sat down next to him, sipping her coffee.

"This is nice," she said. "Oh, I know it's because no one is here."

"True, but not everyone is bad news."

Emily came in. "Good morning, Jason," she said. "Hi, Maureen." She sounded pleasantly surprised.

"See?" Jason said.

"I love you," Maureen said.

"Jason, you are lucky," Emily aid.

"I know it," he said.

Emily drank some coffee and then left. She was on her way to the Edwards' house for an Easter brunch.

The Quartermaine house was quiet, but the Edwards house was not.

Duane always had a party on Easter, and kept that up after Allison had gone. He invited Sarah to it, practically to test himself. He wanted to see if he had the nerve to be around Sarah with his daughters around. He had a detached feeling, as if he were testing some other man.

His daughter Valerie came home from graduate school in New York City, for a long weekend. She had helped with the party last year, and agreed to do so again this year.

When Sarah came to the door, Valerie let her in, and shook her hand and introduced herself. "Weren't you the one injured in the accident?" she asked.

"Yes, I was one. Toby Breyer and I, versus Skye Quartermaine."

"Big case, I remember," Valerie said. "Come on in. This is Yvonne, my sister, you know Toby, this is the rest of her band, Ian the bass player and Wylie her drummer. Then there is Emily, and this is Taryn."

"Nice to meet you. Well, except for Taryn. I already know her."

Everyone chuckled.

"I didn't know you'd be here, Sarah," Taryn said.

"Me neither. Is your mom here?"

"No."

Sarah saw Sean then. She went to talk to him. "Did you bring Skye with you?"

"No, she wasn't going to the house of the lawyer who sued her."

"She's speaking to you!"

"Technically."

"That sounds like a rejection of Duane, not of you."

"She would have turned me down if I'd been going somewhere else."

"Maybe not. She could have said I won't go anywhere with you, or I wouldn't be caught dead with you, or something along those lines."

"That would have been worse," he agreed.

Alexis came in, and introduced her fiancé, Jerry Jacks, to Sarah.

Rick Friel came along. He did not seem to know Alexis and Jerry, so Sarah introduced him. Alexis and Jerry drifted off.

"I'm sorry about what I said the other day," Rick apologized to Sarah.

"We have this pattern," Sarah observed, "You do something and the next time you see me you apologize for that and then commit a new offense."

He laughed. "Will you forgive me as part of this pattern?"

"Sure."

"That's nice of you. Mature, really. I judged things too fast."

"Maybe superficially."

"Yes, that. For sure. See, Duane and I were in each other's weddings, and I really do care about him."

"That's nice. I'd believe you if you knew what his daughter looked like."

He laughed. "I just have a bad memory for faces. Especially kids. They change all the time. I saw Valerie today and her childhood face came back to me. Those pictures on the shelf over there jogged my memory."

Sarah looked toward the shelf he indicated. She had a brief feeling she couldn't describe. Childhood pictures of Valerie and Yvonne. She wasn't sure she wanted to look.

"Were you friends with Duane's wife, too?" she asked.

"Yes, very good," Rick said. "It's a shock Allison left."

"Did you pick between the two or stay friends with her, too?"

"I picked Duane, I guess I'd say. Even after all those years, Allison was more his wife than my friend on her own. These things happen."

"I'm young, but I can figure out that if I cared about a friend, his or her spouse who walked out on them to be with someone else wouldn't be real high on my list."

"That's true," Rick said. "She's not my favorite person about now. I haven't talked to her since. So maybe I judge superficially there, too. But I know Duane, and I suppose it is Allison I did not really know. But we never really know anyone else. Duane and I are so similar. When we were ushers in each others weddings we would never have dreamed that we would turn up twenty-five years later, both single."

"Duane told me what happened to your wife. I'm sorry."

"Thank you. I've been thinking about how unexpected it is, how things may not turn out the way we think they will. My daughter got me thinking about it, saying that I shouldn't have been judging you so quick."

"Your teenaged daughter Amy got you thinking about it?"

"No, no, I have an older daughter. Amanda. She pointed out to me that I wasn't too nice to you."

"Oh, so you told her what you said."

"Sure. She's an adult. Like Valerie."

"Like me."

"OK, but seriously, I couldn't think of say, my daughter Amanda dating Duane."

"If she ever does, you'll have to deal with it. She's an adult."

"You're too smart for me, you know it?"

"I take it that means you're not a lawyer, too."

"Oh, no! I'm a District Manager. For Jax Corporation."

Duane passed through the hall and went into the backyard. He saw Sarah in the distance, talking to Rick Friel.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself for whatever might happen.

His younger daughter, Yvonne, was near Sarah and Rick. Yvonne had a plate and two glasses in her hands, and she was trying to give someone one of the glasses. She had too much in her hands.

Sarah deftly took both of the glasses, saying to Yvonne, "Let me help you with it, sweetie."

Duane froze, heard Rick laughing, Yvonne saying "thank you," and Sarah asking the other guest what he wanted to drink.

He turned back a minute, and his colleague Ted Goldenburg was right there and said hello to him.

He made some small talk with Ted, wondering if what Sarah had said to Yvonne and the way she had helped had come naturally or if Sarah had thought about it a little.

He wouldn't be surprised it if had been the latter.

Finally, he was able to go to Sarah.

"Thank you for coming," he said.

"My pleasure. There sure are a lot of people here."

"It has become a tradition," he said. "Come along," he took her arm and took her over to Valerie. Sarah smiled, pleased with him for his. "This is Valerie," he said. He held her by the waist then. She felt very good about the way he did that to introduce her to his daughter.

"We met," Valerie smiled.

"Valerie let me in," Sarah explained, standing very close to Duane now and looking up at him.

"I'm glad you could come," Valerie said.

"Thank you," Sarah said. "It's a nice party. It's a tradition, I understand."

"Yes, and now I'm the hostess," Valerie said. "Like Harriet Lane or one of substitute first ladies like Dolly Madison for the widower Thomas Jefferson."

"More like Maria Jefferson or Eliza Monroe," Sarah said. "Daughters who took that on. Helen Taft or Margaret Wilson."

"You've got a good memory," Valerie said. "Do you remember everything you see in museums?"

"I have a photographic memory," Sarah said. "It can be a bore for people, sometimes."

"That's interesting, though," Valerie said. "But I thought it was Dolly Madison who stood in for late Mrs. Jefferson."

"I think you're right," Sarah said. "Maybe Polly just stepped in here and there."

"Polly, Dolly, whoever did it," Duane said. "It was a bigger job than Valerie's."

"Oh, come on, Dad, you are more trouble than any President," Valerie joked.

"I can imagine that's so," Sarah said.

Later, Valerie was talking to her friend Quinn and Quinn's new husband, Zander.

"Did you like Ireland?" Valerie asked them. "If you saw any of it, that is, since it was your honeymoon."

"We saw some of it," Zander laughed. "It was beautiful. You ought to go there, sometime."

"I'd like to. Oh, be careful. Sean Monroe is here. Dad knows him now as a colleague."

"No problem. If I'm going to live in this town, I have to do it without decking Sean whenever I see him," Zander said.

"Me too," Quinn said. "And I may not be able to manage it. No, I'm kidding, Val, I wouldn't wreck your party by punching Sean."

"Who even knows if that would wreck it?" Valerie grinned. "That might make it famous. But what do you think? I believe Dad has a girlfriend."

"That's great!" Quinn said. "It's been a long time since your parents split up." She turned to Zander, "Her mom's married again," she explained to him.

"Yeah, and it wasn't pretty," Valerie added. "Not that such a thing ever could be. But Mom says she is happy now. Good for her. But Dad, well, that's still up in the air."

"Do you like her?" Quinn asked. "The new girlfriend, I mean."

"I'll like anyone Dad likes," Valerie said.

Quinn smiled. That was so typical of Valerie.


	12. Teens of Port Charles

After they left Yvonne's dad's house, Toby took Taryn to the barn. The band rehearsed there, sometimes. When they didn't, it was usually empty. It belonged to a farmer who didn't use it much and didn't seem to mind the band rehearsing there, or the occasional teen-aged romps that took place there.

"Let me show you something," Toby said. As soon as he showed her the Port Charles Gazette and the particular article in question "Teen Charged with Drunk Driving," she knew she was busted.

"That's you, isn't it?" he said.

"How did you know?" she asked, her hopes of sexual satisfaction fading for the evening. Men – you couldn't live without them, yet you couldn't live with them.

"Because at the bar the other night, Clay Delaney's sister the writer of this article, explained how they could print the name of the juvenile but didn't out of consideration, and he said that she would be turning 18 in a few weeks anyway. That sounded familiar."

"Oh," she said.

"Is everything OK? What can you do about the charge?"

"Alexis will represent me."

"You can really keep it a secret from your mom?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. I hope she didn't see this article. She must not have. Her mind is too occupied right now. I don't think she pays attention to the news and I took the paper out of the house as soon as I saw it. She never asked where the paper was."

"Maybe you can get through it without bothering her," he said.

"I hope so. She doesn't need to worry about this right now. Alexis says there may even be a defense. A public necessity, something like that."

"The girl who wrote the article, Clay's sister, was telling him she thought the penalty should be light."

"She had to write an article about it," Taryn said, ruefully. "Nosy thing. This town must not have much happening in it if that was worth it. I couldn't believe it when I saw it."

"With reporters, it's their job to be nosy," he said.

"I was at this party, and I drank too much. Clay was there, and he said he'd drive me home," Taryn said.

"Good thing he did," Toby said. "It would have been much worse otherwise."

"I'm glad you're not upset with me," she said.

"I wouldn't be," he said.

"Good," she said, drawing a finger across his chest. He felt a bit of mistrust, like there must be more to it, but wasn't sure how to bring it up without sounding accusatory or jealous. He decided to play it cool. Anyway, she was here. Why argue with her when he could make out with her? This seemed the most sensible way to look at it for the moment.

Things started to get hot and heavy.

Things were hot and heavy, but a little cooler and lighter, between Branwyn and Jeremy. They were in the basement of his house. His parents had made a rec room down there. It was late and there was a fairly safe chance that there would be no interruptions. Jeremy knew that if his one or the other of his parents were going to check on him, he would hear the door open. They usually yelled from there. If they started down the stairs, there was still time to fix things.

Jeremy knew all this from long years of experience.

He put his arm around Branwyn and started to kiss her. He felt her return the kiss, and then he pushed his tongue into her mouth. She returned that.

He felt her whole body, and massaged her spine. She was the greatest girl he knew. No nonsense about her. Sensible. Not expecting anything ridiculous and able to stand up for herself.

He undid her shirt buttons. She tolerated this, but then moved away a little.

"Did you do it with Taryn down here?" she asked.

He laughed. She was such a straight shooter. "No, I don't have that kind of nerve."

"Where did you do it?"

"Her basement. The car. Why do you want to know? I don't care about that any more."

"You won't care about me any more one day."

"That's not true," he said.

"What's the difference?"

"Branwyn, there is a difference between you and Taryn, believe it."

"I know there is, but why would you prefer me?"

"Think about it," he said.

"I'm not doing it," she said, flatly.

"I know," he said.

"I don't believe it. You think you'll talk me into it."

"No, I think only you will decide when you want to," he said.

"Then why unbutton my blouse?"

"Branwyn, that does not mean I believe you'll go all the way with me," he said. "Why would it?"

"I don't know. Maybe it doesn't. But why do you stay with me when I won't do it?"

"Because I like you."

She had nothing to say to that. She felt like she was being pulled into something she resisted, anyway. "This is not going to work either," she said. "Pretending you are going along with me until I give in."

"As you wish," he said, grinning, and re-buttoning her shirt.

Branwyn's cousin Kara was also with her boyfriend. Kara was going through a series of radiation treatments. They made her sick. Peter was sitting with Kara, in the living room. Beth brought them glasses of lemonade.

"I couldn't drink that," Kara said. She couldn't drink it without it coming back up. But Kara was becoming rather delicate about expressing things like that.

Peter took a sip of his. "Maybe in a little while you can drink it," Peter said.

"Of course, Kara," Beth said.

"Thank you, Mom," Kara said. "I just have one more treatment. A little while after that, maybe I'll even be normal."

"You are normal," Peter said. "All normal people get sick from radiation."

Beth felt a stab of affection for her daughter's boyfriend. How did he think of the right thing to say so easily? And he was only 17.

Kara leaned her head against Peter's shoulder.

It had been hard for Kara. She'd had a crush on Peter for a long time, then miraculously, he had stopped dating Taryn Polk and taken Kara out and even more miraculously, become more attached to Kara.

It had seemed too good to be true, and of course, it had been. Kara developed a brain tumor. Fortunately, it had turned out to be benign, but she'd had to undergo surgery to remove it and radiation to make sure it was gone. She had gone as Peter's date to the wedding of Peter's older brother Zander, which would have been the height of happiness for her, except that it had been from there that she had to go to the hospital when he headache become so severe that she couldn't stand it any more. Dr. Jason Quartermaine, her pediatrician, happened to be there, and he'd left the wedding too, to take Kara to the hospital.

Since then she had received so much support and was so grateful, and at the same time felt like a burden. Mostly she felt unattractive. She hated to feel that way with Peter around, yet she had to have him around. He had been so supportive and called her beautiful anyway. He said he loved her, though Kara doubted that was really true, as he had said so first when she was awaiting the results of the biopsy on the tumor, and it could have been malignant, and it might have been going to kill her, and that meant Peter would say that just to be nice.

Kara had a hard time with missing the beginning of volleyball season, too. She was captain of the Mercy High team and this was her senior year. Academics had not been affected too badly, though. Kara was smart to begin with, especially at math, and Peter's mother, Oksana, had volunteered Zander's tutor to help Amanda Friel. Way back, Zander had gotten behind in school, and when finally reunited with his family, his wealthy parents had hired him a tutor to help him catch up. Now he was in college and majoring in education.

"The prom's coming up," Peter said. "You're going with me, aren't you?" He put his arm around her, gently. The way he touched her now was so sweet, sometimes it brought tears to her eyes. He was careful. She hated being frail, but loved him for the way he considered it without having to be told.

"No," she said, teasing. "I'm going to have my little brother take me."

"I took Taryn to the homecoming when she had a cast on," he said. "I can manage you easily."

"Yeah, I hope I'm better then. I'm tired of being tired. Sick of being sick."

"It's getting about that time, doll," Beth said. "You can go up and start getting ready for bed. When you're ready, Peter can come up and talk to you for a little while."

"I'm too tired to go up those stairs," Kara said.

Peter got up and said, "There's only one way to handle that." He picked her up and started to carry her across the room.

"Careful on the stairs, Peter," Beth called.

"It'll be OK, Mrs. Delaney," he said. "She's awfully light." He walked right up the stairs with her, easily.

"Thank you, Peter," Kara said. "That was nice. Believe it or not, coming up these stairs now can seem like such a big deal."

"It'll pass," he said. "In the meantime, my elevator service is at your command."

She hugged him. He hugged her back. "I'll send your mom up," he said. "She'll never consent to me helping you getting ready for bed. She was young herself, once, you know."

Kara smiled as he went down the stairs. That was their own joke, Kara and Peter's, because Beth had so often, in her warnings to Kara, told Kara she knew what people her age might try to get away with, because "I was a teenager myself once, you know."


	13. Dating Issues

Sarah went into Kelly's for coffee. She saw Emily sitting there at a table.

"Hi, Emily," she said.

"Oh, Sarah, hi, sit down," Emily said. She was unusually cheerful looking, at least, to Sarah.

"I haven't seen you here since I've been back," Sarah said, deciding she would take five minutes to talk to Emily.

"I was trying to avoid this guy, Sean," Emily said. "Now I don't care. He lives in one of the rooms upstairs."

"Sean Monroe?"

"Yes. You know him?"

"He was the lawyer for the other side in the accident case. I mean, for your sister, sorry. I thought he was dating Skye. How come you avoided him?"

"I was dating him and then he cut me for Skye, more or less. But now I don't care any more. I've got another guy anyway."

"Great, who is that?"

"Wylie Doyle is his name. He's a student at PCU, and drummer of a rock band. The Dissenters."

"Yvonne Edwards' band."

"Right, you've heard of them. Have you heard them? They play the club downstairs a lot."

"No," Sarah said. "I would like to. Elizabeth's niece in law is dating another one of them. You must know her. Taryn."

"Oh, I know Taryn," Emily said. "What a joy she is. She's dating another guy too, but Toby doesn't know. Everybody knows but Toby. And we don't know whether he'll hate us more for telling him or for not telling him. And another thing is that she hasn't turned 18 yet."

"Maybe Toby knows and doesn't care," Sarah said.

"Could be, but it doesn't seem likely," Emily said. "I just doubt he'll like it one bit. But if we don't tell him, she might just quit seeing the other guy on her own, and why make them unhappy when it might work out in the end? I don't know. I can't even decide what I'd want a friend of mine to do in the same situation."

"It's Toby's problem to decide if he wants them to be exclusive and to tell her that and to decide what to do if she doesn't want that."

"Yes. I think that's true, too. I just feel bad for him. She must be letting him think they are. I was thinking I could tell him. It wouldn't matter if he was mad at me. Then his three best friends, his band mates, would be off the hook."

"What do they think?"

"Wylie thinks he'll find out on his own anyway and that he won't know we knew. If he ever finds that out, at first he'll yell at us for not telling him then forgive us."

Sarah smiled. "Logical," she said.

"Ian thinks we should just tell him and get it over with," Emily went on. "Yvonne is like me, doesn't know which way to go. She thinks he might understand why we didn't say anything and let him handle it on his own. On the other hand, it is gossip they would normally talk about, and we go out of our way not to, as if we're keeping it like a secret from him."

"Amazing how one little fact can cause so much pressure," Sarah said.

"It is. I wonder if back when I dated Sean, I'd have thought he and Skye should tell me what they were doing. I just found out for myself. If one of my other brothers found out, I don't know what I'd want them to do, but I'd respect what they did decide to do. I think they'd have gone and yelled at both Sean and Skye, for one thing."

"That's a thought. Go and yell at Taryn about it. Then that makes it more obvious that you know, though. That's the risk there."

"Taryn could then end up telling Toby about us knowing," Emily said. "That's true. A part of me says let Toby handle it himself. There must be signs. To Toby, there must be something. I think he could end up sometime confiding in me, too, like saying he thinks Taryn could be cheating because of this or that. Then what? It'll be different. I'll feel more like I should tell him. It makes me interested in doing sneaky and manipulative things. Like try to find some way to get Toby to find out. In that London Underground, with Toby in the band there and the other boyfriend as the bartender, it amazes me that they don't find out about each other. I almost think the bartender must know about Toby. Then he makes the moves to hide it."

"That's a good point," Sarah said. "But you're right, it will come out one way or another. Taryn can't hide this forever. I know her. She's Elizabeth's husband's niece. She's going to trip up on the secret somehow."

"Yes. Taryn is a character. How she got herself into this, I don't know. But it's not a big surprise, somehow."

Sarah's sister was drinking coffee, too, with their mother, Dr. Jennifer Webber, in the hospital cafeteria.

"Have you seen Sarah?" Jennifer asked her daughter. "I haven't since she got her apartment."

"I've seen her," Elizabeth said. "She came over to the box car. We went out to the London Underground with Jason and Maureen. We saw Patti there, too. Dancing with this guy."

"Patti getting out? That's good."

"What do you think of the man Sarah is dating?"

"I haven't heard of any man Sarah is dating."

"She hasn't told you? That's odd. She must not think much of it, then."

"I'm sure she will tell me if there's anything to it."

"Yes, she must not think there really is."

"But she talked to you about it."

"A little. But I can't tell you anything if she hasn't."

"How is Patti doing?"

"As well as can be expected. Taryn is becoming a problem."

"That happens when people get divorced. Their children act out. Especially at that age. She's asserting her independence anyway. Now it is compounded."

"I guess you know all about that, Mom."

"A little, then friends, I hear their problems, too," Jennifer patted Elizabeth's hand. "It's not all you, you know."

"Good," Elizabeth said.

"What is Taryn doing?"

"Dating two guys, both of whom are dating a minor. They aren't minors. This is in reaction to her break-up with Jeremy, who was her high school boyfriend, who wanted to date other girls. She decided what is good for the gander is good for the goose."

"Hey, she's right! We have our equality, now."

"Then I suspect she is the minor involved in the drunk driving train incident."

"The one in the paper? That wasn't too bad. Nobody got hurt. But why do you think it was Taryn?"

"One of Taryn's boyfriends is Clay Delaney, the bartender at the London Underground. She went out to a party with him that night. His name got mentioned, because he's not a minor."

"So you think the minor who was drunk and drove the train off the tracks must have been Taryn."

"And it is so like Taryn. It is a thing Taryn would do."

Jennifer smiled.

"And don't think it is a thing I would have done, Mom, when I was her age," Elizabeth said. "I always had a thing for self preservation. I wouldn't have tried to get the car off the tracks. It would have gotten hit."

"I'm glad," Jennifer said. "That was a risk. Taryn could have been killed or badly hurt if she couldn't get the car started. The train would have been there and if she had the chance to get out and run, she'd still be close to the impact."

"True. It's a miracle she's still alive."

"Maybe she learned a lesson from it," Jennifer said.

"I hope it's not the wrong one," Elizabeth said. "She took that chance, but it worked."

"She's young and thinks she is indestructible," Jennifer said. "But that brush with death might bring her to see the light."

"I hope so," Elizabeth said. "Patti has enough trouble with Kevin leaving her and three children and her divorce proceedings."

"That's so sad, after all those years," Jennifer said. "To get a divorce."

"Yes. What comes over a guy like Kevin?"

Jennifer shrugged. "Mid-life crisis."

"Yeah, but does he have to act on it like that? At least Sarah's not into that. Like Kevin's girlfriend. How crazy do you have to be to go with a guy who is married and has three children?"

"Sarah would never get involved in something like that," Jennifer said. "Where'd that come from?"

"Oh, Mom, please talk to Sarah about it, I feel like I'm violating a confidence, even though I know she'll tell you. This guy, he's divorced. But at least he's already good and divorced."

"OK, don't worry, Elizabeth, dear," Jennifer said. "I'm sure Sarah doesn't mind. If she didn't want me knowing something, she wouldn't tell you either. We don't have secrets from each other. We just get busy with life, and don't have the time to talk that we might like to have."

"Don't you run into Sarah at the hospital?"

"Not that much, strangely. There's so many people there, and so many departments."

"Oh, yeah. I guess you're right. You don't run into Paul a lot, either. I just attributed that to psychiatrists being so specialized, they stay in their own little hallway."

So later that evening, Jennifer called her daughter Sarah and after work, they went over to Luke's bar.

"Funny I don't run into you as much at the hospital as I thought I would, Mom," Sarah said.

"Yes. It's fun to hear them page you, though."

"We're just like the Quartermaines now. They have to use first names too, because there are three Dr. Webbers, like there are three Dr. Quartermaines."

"That was always my goal in life," Jennifer joked. "To be like the Quartermaines."

Sarah laughed. "The three doctor thing will be enough."

"Have you seen much of Jason? Elizabeth said you went out with he and some other girl."

"He's got a new girlfriend. One of the nurses. Maureen Donovan. She's very nice."

"I think I know which one that is. She's very pretty?"

"Yes, that's her."

"So you are dating someone? Elizabeth said so, but when she found out you hadn't told me anything, she felt she could not tell me any more. Then she told me inadvertently that he was divorced, and wanted me to talk to you so she won't feel like she's violating a confidence."

"Oh, Elizabeth. She's against it. I think. Like divorce is so rare."

"I'm sure you would make a good decision who to go out with."

"I really think I have, this time."

"I'm glad, really is it one of the doctors?"

"No. A lawyer."

"What is Elizabeth's problem with that? That he's not a doctor?"

Sarah laughed. "No, it's just that I have anyone interested in me. You know that. I have the career, Elizabeth has the husband. She really needs confidence, Mom. I know her career isn't one with easily blocked out clearly marked successes. It could take forever to get recognition. V. is a good influence, but Elizabeth needs to have something on me, and for awhile, she had a husband first, though she's the younger sister."

"She's still got that."

"Yes, and I'm still early in that dating stage and could get my heart broke again, for all she knows. She says her caution is that she doesn't want that. Consciously maybe. Subconsciously, maybe not."

"Good thing she is married to a shrink. But be objective. Do her alleged concerns have validity?"

"She zeros in on one factor only, the most negative. Nothing is perfect."

"What's this negative factor?"

"Superficial. An age difference."

"Too young or too old? Wait, let me guess. You aren't the younger man type. It must be he is older."

"But that's not as important to me as other things."

"I'm sure you made a good decision."

"Thank you, Mom."

"Why is he right for you?"

"You always look at the positive, Mom. That's so wonderful. I'm not sure I can describe it in words. Because he is strong, confident, but when it comes to me, vulnerable."

"I like the sound of that."

"He is a risk taker but a calculated risk taker. He's not afraid of getting involved in things."

"And you've had enough of that. Guys who are afraid to get involved. You know that last guy, what's-his-name, I think he was just afraid you'd be more successful than he. And that's happened before. An older man already successful avoids that."

"It does. I can handle whatever disadvantages there are to his age. Elizabeth said maybe he doesn't want children now. He has children who are grown. But that's jumping way ahead. We'll see. If he thought he didn't want them, he wasn't thinking of the possibility of being with a woman young enough to still have them."

"He can still be talked into it."

"Right, Mom, and I hadn't even thought of it. I was just enjoying it all. It's not even a consideration yet. Elizabeth brings out every negative and no positives. The grown children won't like me. Well, they're OK with it. His friends won't like it. I already dealt with one who didn't. He apologized for jumping to conclusions. He'll have grandchildren soon, suggests Miss Liz. I doubt it. Neither daughter is married, both are into what their careers are. They're not into that part of life any more than I am. Oh, gee. As Liz would say, we're at the same stage. Well, I am a couple of years older than the older daughter."

"That's my Sarah," Jennifer sighed. "Ready to deal with anything. How many children are there?"

"Two daughters. I met them at a party he had."

"Just how much older are we talking here?"

"Twenty years."

"He had children young, then."

"Yes, he's younger than you and Dad, at least."

"Well, there's a positive. I want to feel at least a little matronly around your boyfriends."

Sarah laughed. "OK, maybe you can! You and Dad waited a while before you had us. I tried out being a little motherly towards the daughters. With the younger daughter, I felt successful."

"And the older?"

"She's unusual. She's such a character. I think there's a way to get along with her.

"I'm sure there is."

"She was friendly to me. I think they're both accepting of their parents divorce. Their mother left, her new husband was the home wrecker. All that happened before I met him, so I'm off the hook."

"That's how Elizabeth let on that he was divorced. She was talking about Kevin Polk's girlfriend and saying how at least Sarah's guy was already divorced. That girl got herself involved with an older, married man."

"I wouldn't do that in a million years."

"Of course not. Let me know how it goes, OK?"

"I will, Mom. Thank you."


	14. Teen Who Causes Problems

Branwyn and Kara were sitting at the sidelines of volleyball practice.

"Thank you for coming," Kara said. "Everyone is so supportive in so many different ways. I only hope I can repay it. I mean, I hope I don't have to, that is, that nothing happens to you to need it."

Branwyn patted Kara on the arm. "I know you would be," she said.

"How's the column coming along?" Kara asked. Branwyn wrote the "Dear Abby" type of column for the Mercy High School Newspaper.

"Pretty well," Branwyn said. "I get enough letters to not even answer them all. I think I need to write one myself, though."

"Write a letter to yourself and see if that helps you – by trying to answer it, you can get your own thoughts straight," Kara said.

"That might work," Branwyn said.

"Do you have a prom date?" Kara asked.

"No," Branwyn said. "But I know you do."

"I know Jeremy will ask you," Kara said.

"In the dictionary, under the word 'problem,'" Branwyn said, "there is a picture of Jeremy and under that, a picture of Taryn."

Kara laughed. "I think they can't be together, because the world might fall apart."

"They could cancel each other out, maybe."

"Taryn hasn't been near Jeremy recently, has she? She has other fish to fry."

"True, and other problems to cause. It's not that she's around. It's her legacy. It lasts and lasts."

Kara laughed again. "I'm sorry, Bran, I'm not laughing at your problems. Just at the way you put them. You should be a comedienne, you know? You have this way of talking about things."

"Being the youngest of nine, you have to get your sense of humor in gear."

"Oh, come now! You're spoiled. If Jeremy looks at you the wrong way, boom! Five big brothers are on him."

"Yes. I should mention them more often, to Jeremy."

"And let Clay deal with Taryn's legacy! Really, I hope he breaks up with her soon! It scares me that she's not 18 yet."

"It should," Branwyn said.

But it was Toby who was the one dealing the Taryn's legacy now. His band had gone to the London Underground after rehearsing in the barn. Checking out the competition was always interesting. Tonight there was this laid-back older guy singing; Ned Ashton.

They saw Skye Quartermaine as she came in. She was rushing as usual. She went to the bar and started giving Clay Delaney some instructions. She was talking to Clay when suddenly she stopped, listened and turned around to look at the band. Her jaw dropped. "What the hell?" she said, to no one in particular. "It's my stupid cousin! How did he get a gig here?"

"I don't know, Skye," Clay said. "Must have been the manager wanting to give him a try. You mean it wasn't nepotism?"

"Damn right, it wasn't!" Skye marched over to the manager's office.

Toby went up to the bar.

"Thank you for driving Taryn home," he said.

"What?" Clay knew though, that Toby didn't know that he, Clay, was dating Taryn, too.

"I mean," Toby said. "You really helped her out. She would have for sure been on the hook for drunk driving. But the way it is, it looks uncertain," Toby added.

"Uh, yeah," Clay said. "I could see she was drunk, so I just offered her a ride home in her own car. Her mother's car isn't the greatest."

"That thing is on its last legs," Toby said. "Too bad Taryn saved it."


	15. In Young Dr Webber's Hands

"I like your new girlfriend, Dad," Valerie said. "Your Lauren Bacall."

"What was the deal with her and Bogart?" he asked. "Sarah mentioned that, too."

"They fell in love on the set of 'To Have and Have Not,'" Valerie said. "He was 45 and she was 21."

"That's an even bigger difference," Duane said, thinking. "And she was even younger. I'm rationalizing. I keep doing it."

"There's Paul McCartney," Yvonne offered. "He married a girl his daughter's age. After his wife died."

"Sarah's not as young as Lauren Bacall and not quite as young as I, and she's a doctor," Valerie said. "What do you think, Yvonne, of Dad dating this girl hardly older than me?"

"Let's not use the term 'girl,'" Duane said.

"OK," Valerie laughed, patting his arm. "This woman?"

"I think it's strange," Yvonne said. "But interesting. I feel like she's older than me, anyway."

"She was friendly to me," Valerie said. "But she didn't try to act motherly."

"She did try that with Yvonne," Duane said, dryly. "I saw it."

"How?" Yvonne said.

"You don't remember? At the party, she helped you out, with some glasses,"

"Oh," Yvonne said. "But she did help."

"I think she is crazy about you, Dad," Valerie said.

"That goes a long way with me," said Yvonne.

"Me too," Valerie said.

He looked at them. "You two matter to me more than anyone else," he said.

"I know," Valerie said. "I love you for that, but there's a little more space here. For somebody for you. I want you to be happy."

"I know it," he said. "I appreciate that."

"A doctor," Valerie said, "must have some brains. You tell that to me all the time about my doctorate. I think she likes you. Is she right for you?"

"She might be. She is strong. Very tough on the inside."

"Like she could take in stride being zillions in debt?"

"Like that," he said, laughing.

Jennifer and Jeff Webber were talking about the same subject, over dinner at their house.

Jennifer could tell Jeff everything Sarah had told her. She knew that Sarah assumed she would.

"I wonder, could it be that guy we met at the country club, Rick Friel?" Jeff asked. "He said he had two daughters."

"Not unless he is a lawyer," Jennifer said. "This guy is a lawyer."

"Oh," Jeff said. "Then Rick is not the guy. He's in sales for Jax Corporation."

"Besides, Rick Friel said he was a widower. This guy is divorced."

"I don't know where Sarah could have met Rick Friel, either."

"Anywhere," Jennifer said. "You're the one always telling me what a small town this is!"

"He's a lawyer," Jeff laughed. "Well, he's the one who is going to find himself talked into things!"

"And I don't think his twenty extra years of experience is going to help him much, either!"

"No, he's in the hands of Sarah," Jeff said. "Wonder if he knows that?"

"By now, probably yes," Jennifer said.

The next day, Joanna, Maureen, Quinn and Sarah were talking at a table in the hospital cafeteria.

"It was the first surgery I ever did," Sarah was saying.

"What kind?" Maureen asked.

"Tubal ligation. We had to go over it with the patient. She was 35, with three kids. That sounds like someone who won't want more children. You never know what can happen, though. We had her do counseling and sign all these disclaimers that she knew what she was doing."

"I thought about that," Joanna said. "Charlie and I had planned to have two children and we had two. Something stopped me. I'm glad I didn't do it. You don't know what will happen. Now I think, maybe, if I end up with A.J., one more might be something I'd want."

"At least it's an option," Quinn said.

"Right. He's only got one child. Of course he'd say we have three. But somehow the fourth seems to fit that potential family."

"Men should never do vasectomies," Sarah said. "They never know what's going to happen. If you're a woman and your forty years old, OK. But a man should be at least sixty before making that kind of decision."

"Yeah, he might end up with some younger woman," Maureen said, glancing at Sarah and smiling. "There's no end to a man's ability to reproduce during his lifetime."

"Yes," Sarah said.

Someone paged "Dr. Jeff Webber."

"They have to use first names for you and your parents," Joanna observed. "Like the Quartermaines."

"Maybe there will be two Nurse Quartermaines one day," Quinn said.

"There she goes," Joanna said. "The matchmaker. She'll be working on you next, Sarah."

Sarah just smiled.

"How is Valerie?" Joanna grinned at Sarah just like Maureen had. "Did you see her, Quinn?"

"Oh, Joanna, you know that guy you were dating, before you got together with A.J.?" Quinn said, suddenly remembering, "Glen, the real estate agent? Mrs. Edwards is married to him now. I saw her here one day, and she said her name was Hancock now. Then I was talking to Valerie at her dad's house on Easter, and Valerie said his first name was Glen and he was a real estate agent."

"It is the same guy!" Joanna looked amazed. "He must have been dating her at the same time as me!"

"I don't know," Quinn said. "She was married, and maybe he was trying to, you know, avoid his feelings for her, whatever. They got involved when she was still married."

"Maybe he tried to split with her because of that," Joanna said. "Oh well, it doesn't matter to me now. But it seems like she is going down in the world. Trial lawyer to Glen the real estate agent." Joanna rolled her eyes at the thought of Glen the real estate agent. "I'm amazed anyone could find Glen that attractive, but there's no accounting for taste."

"The Edwardses were three million dollars in debt one time," Quinn said. "It was probably the stress."

"How could that happen?" Maureen was amazed.

"Something to do with a case," Quinn said. "Lawyers put money into a case, or owe it, or something. Then they get paid when the case ends, but there's no guarantee that the case won't bring in zero."

"Or not enough to cover it," Sarah said, "I see."

"Valerie and I were hanging out in her room one time," Quinn said. "When we were in high school, or maybe even junior high. Yvonne was out in the hall yelling. You know how some people sing in the shower? Yvonne liked the upstairs hall. Then their dad was never home, so when he was, it was a big deal. They were in their bedroom and we heard Mrs. Edwards yell at him that he had them three millions dollars in debt. I remember Yvonne singing, 'Three millions dollars in debt, we're three million dollars in debt.'"

They laughed at that image.

"Val and I always laughed about that later," Quinn went on, smiling at the memory. "When I was dating Sean she said are you going to marry a lawyer and let him get you three million dollars in debt? And it was even funnier one night when I was listening to Yvonne's band, and she had this song about this guy she hated because thinking about him kept her up at night, then it goes into this long list of terrible things he did to her, and one of them was that he got her three million dollars in debt."

They laughed some more. "I can see where you and Valerie and Yvonne could laugh, and where we can now," said Maureen, sobering up a little, "but where Mrs. Edwards maybe couldn't, then."

"The case must have paid off," Sarah said.

"I guess it must have, or another one did, or other ones," Quinn said. "They always lived in the same house, so it didn't put them in poverty. But there was always something going on. One time, the IRS was at his office seizing his desks and stuff. Then they came to the house and tried to take the furniture. Mrs. Edwards after that filed separate taxes, you know, married filing separately? Val said she thought that would help her."

They were laughing, again.

"It would be a pretty heavy thing to live with," Maureen said. "Especially if it went on for awhile. Maybe we shouldn't laugh at the poor woman's plight."

"Yes," Quinn said. "Val was lucky she was a kid and just thought it was funny. I remember her practically bragging about the IRS being at her house. And then she never takes things like that seriously, either. Like now, she thinks the IRS is a big joke. Everything is a big joke with her, but especially the government."

"Experience hardens a person," Sarah said.

"Yes, even vicariously," Maureen said. "I'll never fear the IRS again. Seriously, though, she thinks her father can fix anything?"

"He was my lawyer, and he was pretty good," Sarah said to Quinn. "Maybe he just knew it was a good case."

"That's true," Quinn said. "I wasn't seeing it that way. But it still could have been hard for his wife to see that, or have the same confidence. Dealing with the drama. I think Valerie did get from her dad this - disregard of authority, maybe? I don't know how to say it. A feeling that you can take the government on. Once you can do that, you can take anybody on. Rules don't matter."

Joanna and Maureen had to get back to their floors. "Where rules matter," Joanna joked.


	16. Some Get an Education

Peter went to the ice rink. Sergei was coaching him.

These days, Peter was able to go and see his dad whenever he wanted. It was amazing, really, after all that had happened. Year ago, his dad had taken Peter and his brother Zander out of the country, when their mother had custody. Their dad had ended up in jail for that. His parents' divorce had just gotten messier and messier, until Zander had run away and they found him again and moved to Port Charles.

Now, Sergei was back from Yekaterinburg, where he had gone to see Irina, Peter's 11-year-old cousin, on his mother's side, ironically enough.

Sergei told Peter that Irina was still excited about her skating.

"She wants to come back to US," Sergei said. "She will in the summer, at the very least."

"How about the pair skating part?" Peter asked. "And with me?"

"That is exactly what she wants to do. She has a real potential. She is a born pair skater, Peter."

"Am I?"

"You, maybe. She, certainly. We will see. You do practice good, regular, since Irina went to Russia. I think you are dedicated."

"I'm dedicated to baseball, too, that's the thing."

"This is OK."

"Doesn't have to be just one thing?" Peter said.

"No. International skater can have a life besides skating."

"OK," Peter said, "As long as that's so."

Later, when Peter was home, he was pleasantly surprised to see that Kara was there already, going over her homework with Amanda. There was a girl there Peter had never seen before. Amanda introduced Peter to her little sister, Amy Friel, who Amanda had brought over to meet everyone and to discuss some homework assignment she had with Zander.

Peter didn't ask why that was necessary. By now, he was used to the unusual academic situations surrounding Zander.

Amy and Zander were looking at history books and talking about FDR and the depression. Kara was working on physics.

"Here is someone saying the federal reserve could have increased the money supply," Zander said.

"Wouldn't that just cause inflation?" Amy asked.

"I don't know. This one argues that a money supply contraction is what caused the depression in the first place."

Peter asked Kara if she wanted to "get out of here for a little while." She smiled and got up. He put his arm around her and helped her up.

Kara's head was wrapped in a scarf. That was how she handled having no hair from radiation fall out. Wigs wigged her out, as she said. She'd hated that idea.

The downside seemed to be that her face looked even paler and thinner. At first she would feel funny-looking and unattractive, then as the day wore on she would forget about it, until for one reason or another, she saw herself in a mirror.

Sometimes she wondered if Peter was just being nice. But today, when he came in, she'd seen him first, and the way his face lit up when he saw her gave her a warm feeling and an increase in confidence. He had not thought of her being there, and was surprised to see her, and the pleasure in seeing her was therefore more genuine.

They went up to his room. He picked her up and put her on the bed. "How do you feel today?" he asked.

"Better," she said. "I'm officially out of treatment. Even one day away, I can feel a difference. I came up the stairs and didn't feel like it was some major project like I did before."

"You'll just feel better and better now," he said.

"Maybe I'll even have hair."

He sat down next to her and put his arms around her. "You're so brave," he said.

Downstairs, Zander was asking Amy, "Who was the crazy teacher who gave you this assignment?"

"Mr. Delaney," Amanda told him.

"Matt Delaney," Amanda said. "He's Jackson's younger brother."

"They're everywhere," Zander said. "Delaneys here, Delaneys there. I haven't seen Jackson in a while. I think I'll ask him to play tennis soon. He's my best opponent."

"We could go on another trip," Amanda said.

"You want to see him again, too, eh?" Zander said.

"Oh, I was thinking of you seeing him, and that's another way."

"We could go see the Federal Reserve," Zander said.

"Pass," said Amy.

"Who said you were going?" Amanda grinned.

"The Federal Reserve is related to my assignment!" Amy exclaimed. "Besides, I want to see this Jackson I've heard so much about. That's the pilot, right?" Amy directed this to Zander.

"Yes, I think we should go to D.C. and have a look at the Federal Reserve," Zander said, eyes twinkling. "All four of us and any other hangers-on that want to go."

Later that evening, Zander said to Quinn: "We have some matchmaking to do. It would work out as a good first dinner party."

"OK, what's the match?"

"Amanda and Jackson Delaney. So it can be played as my gratitude for my education. Then I can include Mom. She can bring Jax. And your folks, of course. Does that sound too big? We can get help from Rosa and them."

"Oh, no, it sounds like fun."

There was a knock on the door.

Zander opened the door to see Jax standing there. His car was parked off to the side.

"I always have to laugh when people think the distance from this gate house to the main house is enough to use a car," Zander grinned. "Come in."

"I'm on my way to the house," Jax said. "So it seemed like I'd be backtracking, I suppose. How are you, Quinn?"

"Fine, it's nice to see you. We were just talking about inviting you and Oksana to come over."

"That sounds really nice. Speaking of Oksana, I need some advice."

"You do? Sit down," Zander said. "I'll try to give you any I can. But she's a big mystery to me."

"Oh, me too," Jax laughed. "This is simple. I need to learn to propose in Russian."

"Oh, I can handle that," Zander said.

"If it's OK with you, of course," Jax said. "I don't expect you to teach me any Russian if you don't approve."

"I'll leave it up to her," Zander said. "She'll do what she wants, anyway. Probably she doesn't want you to know any Russian. So I'll teach you as much as you want to know."

"He's a good teacher," Quinn told Jax.

"I know he is," Jax said, "and is going to be. That's why I come to him. Everyone thinks I'm going to make a great big grand gesture of a proposal. So I plan to shock them by toning it down. I thought of this to make it unusual."

"Because you just can't do anything the usual, dull way," said Zander.

"Precisely, son, exactly," Jax said.


	17. Learning Russian

Zander grabbed a notebook and wrote it down and then transliterated it.

"Will you marry me would be: Vee budete zhenit's'a na mne?"

Jax read it.

"Vee – that is 'you,'" Zander explained. "Say that."

"Vee," said Jax.

"Boo-di-teh – that is 'you will' and inflected as a question 'will you?'"

Jax repeated that.

"'Zhen – its – a'" – marry, and 'na mne' – to me."

Jax repeated it a couple of times.

Then Zander wrote: 'Вы будете жениться на мне?' "Show that to her if she can't understand you at all," Zander said. "I think you're doing well. Quinn has this charming accent, so does Alexis."

"Mine is different," Jax guessed.

"Yours is hilarious," Zander agreed.

Quinn laughed. "No stranger than your grandparents and their Aussie accent in English!"

"This family," Jax said. "Has Russians who speak English with an Australian accent. What it needs now is someone who speaks Russian with an Australian accent."

"We have him now," Quinn said.

"Another thing," Jax said. "If you think I can handle it, teacher. How about 'I love you?'"

"Ya l'ubl'u vas," Zander said. "Ya, me. L'ubl'u, love. Vas, you."

Jax repeated that a couple of times. Zander wrote than down in Russian and in transliteration.

"Wait a minute," Quinn said, "If you are going to marry someone and you love them, don't you know them well enough to use the familiar you instead of the formal you? Tee budish zhenit's'a na mne? Ya teebya loobloo."

"I never heard it that way," Zander said. "I think it's like you're putting her above you."

"You let me use Ya teebya loobloo and you've said it yourself!"

"But I did not propose to you in Russian."

"That's true," Quinn said. She told Jax, "I proposed to him."

"For which you used English, I presume, which could have been wise," Jax said.

"She used a Native American tradition," Zander said.

"The Hopis are the only ones I could find who had any tradition for a woman proposing to a man," Quinn explained.

"You tried to say it in Hopi?" Jax asked.

"No," Quinn said. "I'm not as ambitious as you are."

"You did have to bake cornbread for that," Zander said. "That was ambitious."

Jax laughed. Then he repeated his Russian words again, "OK, Zander, are you sure I'm not just telling her that I think she is wearing her umbrella backwards?"

"No, you're good," Zander said, laughing.

When Jax got to the house, it was crowded as usual. It was always full of teenagers, and now it had Oksana's brother and parents, too. Sometimes, he even ran into his own parents there.

"Let's leave," he said to Oksana. "Let's go for a drive." She smiled, checked on Peter, and went out with him.

"OK, why you need quiet?" she asked him. "You usually make the most noise."

"You'll see," he said.

He drove her all the way to Niagara Falls. They went out onto the footbridge.

"It is a beautiful night," she said.

"You're beautiful," he said.

He leaned against the rail, and pulled her over to him. He was so handsome and charming, sometimes Oksana did not believe he really existed.

"Listen carefully," he said. "Ya l'ubl'u vas."

She smiled. She hugged him closer. "That made sense?" he asked, his eyes lit up.

"Yes," she said. "Ya l'ubl'u vas tak-zhe."

"I think I understood that," he said, and he gave her a kiss.

He took the ring he had for her and put it in the palm of his hand.

"Vee budete zhenit's'a na mne?" He tried not to laugh. He thought he got each syllable. "I hope the ring makes it more comprehensible, in context."

Her eyes shone. "Da, ya budu zhenit's'a na vas. Ya l'ubl'u vas. Vee zamechatel'ny." She threw her arms around his neck.

He held her close. "Oh, dear, we're getting beyond my vocabulary. But I think I got the right answer."

She laughed, and put the ring on. "Where you learned that?"

"Zander."

"He's good at teaching."

"He must be, if I just made sense."

"You sure? How you gonna have kids?"

"We'll adopt needy children, how's that?"

"You really OK with that?"

"Yes, I really am, because I love you," Jax said. "Why would I marry someone else just to have kids. We'll have grandchildren, with Zander married. We have to help Jerry take care of his, anyway."

She looked up at him, her eyes half full of joy, half full of laughter.


	18. A Doctor and a Lawyer and a Horse

Sarah wanted to take Duane somewhere without telling him where.

"To get me drunk, that's why," he guessed. "So you are driving."

She smiled.

They went to a dock and took a boat over to Windermere.

"What have you got to do with that spook house?" Duane asked. He had the typical attitude of most Port Charles citizens who did not know the Cassidines.

"I was friends with Nikolas in high school, and we used to ride horses together," she said.

They went to the stables once they got to the island.

"This is my horse," she said. "My parents shipped her here. The Cassidines are going to keep exercising her for me. Until I can ride her again." She petted the horse a bit. "I didn't know I'd get her back so soon," Sarah said.

"She was in Colorado?"

"Yes. I only hope I'll be able to ride again, someday."

"If you want to, you will." He petted the horse, too. Then he took Sarah in his arms.

This touched her, somehow, the way he did it.

"What is her name?" he asked.

"Mo'ehno'ha – Cheyenne for horse."

"Say that again?"

"Mo – eh – no – ha," she petted the horse again, her other arm around Duane.

"You call her that every time?"

"No, just Noha."

"Noha. I can do that."

"OK," she giggled and held him close. "Maybe I'll get to teach you how to ride, someday."

"I'm not too old to learn?"

"Never."

They went back across the lake, and then to Jake's. They played pool for awhile. She was really good at it. Again he noticed how steady her hands were. He asked her if she wanted to dance.

"You're a good dancer," she said, slowing down for a slower song. She leaned towards him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"That's why I asked you. To get away from losing at pool."

She laughed, and said, "I'd rather hold you like this than beat you at pool."

"This is an out of the way place," he said. "I'll work up to the Port Charles Grill, I promise."

"It's in Port Charles," she said. "Not Canada, or Rochester or Buffalo. Progress is progress. I'm happy."

"Is it hard, being in your first year?" he asked. "I remember mine was. I came home from the courthouse every day with a huge headache."

"It's not hard, really. It's easier than school. Because you're doing something? It's fascinating. There's this big advantage. Everyone and everything supports you. What you're doing, someone is opposing you all day."

"That's it. I never thought of it. But that's it. You can't accomplish anything without a fight. I think I learned to look at it as accomplishing something by being in the fight."

"That's your purpose."

"Right, to be in it. So if I fought all day, I accomplished something."

"When you get home the last thing you need is opposition."

"Yes, that must have made me terrible to live with."

"Oh, no. No."

"I don't mind being argued with," he said. "I just don't like it to be right away. Right when I comes in the door. Somebody who greats you at the door with an immediate problem and it just kills you. It is the same at the office. Secretaries learned not to do it. They'd wait awhile. That's how I could tell they were getting good at the job."

"How did they learn this?" she grinned. "Did you beat them?"

"I must have snapped at them, or yelled at them. I overheard one of them complaining once. She said to another, 'he got so mad, he almost bit me.'"

"She could have been talking about her husband or a client."

"I knew it was me because the other responded saying that working here was stressful, you never knew when the lion was going to come back from court and bite you."

Sarah threw back her head and laughed. "And we know who the lion was."

"It seems to work better if it is a stressful atmosphere. So the secretaries who last are the ones that can see humor in it. Sometimes I feel like I am deliberately creating a scene. They get this look when they 'get it' so that they don't get upset any longer and just join in, so to speak."

"Or if they can see the humor in the IRS coming to seize the desks."

He looked at her.

"This is a very small town, and I was talking with Quinn the other day. You know, Valerie's friend? She's a nurse now."

"Oh," he smiled.

"She told another nurse and I how your wife married a guy that other nurse had dated in the past, so you see, there's no escape from thesize of this town. So now I know, which I would have known without asking or even ever having met you, about how you got your family millions of dollars in debt. Quinn was a kid and she was there with Valerie when your wife yelled at you about it, and Yvonne started singing about it and she is still singing about it."

"Oh, so years later that fight is discussed at the hospital."

"Yes, people are still talking about you and the IRS. Was it a big battle? I'm sure it was. It is legendary, after all."

"It was the office that was in debt, not the family. And the IRS eventually paid me back when the tax court held in favor of my deductions."

"OK," Sarah said, laughing.

"Allison is always over-dramatic. A check from the IRS is not as dramatic as the IRS agents coming to the house."

"Surely not!" Sarah grinned. He was looking at her as if to see her reaction. "No, the drama is definitely all in the government agents knocking on the door."

"The office being in debt she sees as herself being in debt when that's not so."

"She filed her own taxes, right? According to Quinn, anyway."

"She filed married filing separately, because that was going to keep the IRS from seizing her wages, that's what she thought, but I'm not sure that's true."

"Oh you're not are you? And when she married you, she was too young and naïve to think of a pre-nup."

"Yes, anyone who married me really should have thought of that."

"But the case must have paid off?"

"Yes. And Allison missed that point, too. Kept going on about how she had small children and I put them at risk. That one annoys me. To this day she will be talking to me about one of the girls and use terms like 'my daughters' or 'my children.' When she does that I feel like she is not referring to mine. Some other kids she has stashed away somewhere."

"I wonder if Allison was smart enough for you. I don't mean to say she is not intelligent, I don't know her. Could be, though?"

"I think it is that way. Whenever I tried to explain, it didn't work."

"Or maybe you didn't understandthe emotional fall out. It stressed her out."

"That could be, too. That probably is true."

"She couldn't know how certain you felt about the case."

"Yes, and I was immature too. I probably took that as a lack of faith in me, something like that. Oh," he said, leaning his head against hers. "I shouldn't complain about Allison to you."

"It's OK, baby," she said. "It's a big part of your life. I want to know about your life."

"Thank you. There's yours, too."

She kissed him lightly. "I found this quote for you," she said. "Younger women are better, because their stories are shorter."

"Shorter does not mean less interesting."

"Thank you," she said. "That was nice."

"See, I can be nice."

"We'll see if your secretaries will agree to that."

He laughed. "The longer they are there, the more they like me. Sort of the opposite of Allison."

"Awww," she said, and pulled him closer. "The poor lion."


	19. Is This Song About Me?

Allison called her daughter Valerie, who was in graduate school in New York City.

"I didn't see you this trip," she complained.

"Sorry, Mom, I just did not have enough time between the party and hanging out with Quinn and Zander later. I guess I thought the maid of honor has a duty to welcome the new bride home after her honeymoon."

"I saw Quinn, she's very happy," Allison said. "How did the party go?"

"Great," Valerie said. "The whole band showed up."

"You're kidding!" Allison laughed.

"Yes, they took the time from rehearsing," Valerie said. "Just for social purposes."

"How is school going?"

"Great. How's Glen?"

"Very good. Thank you for asking."

"Have you seen Yvonne lately?"

"No, and I'm in the same town. I think I'll call her. Ask her if the party was worth it."

Valerie laughed. "Who knows how the history of music has suffered?"

Allison called Yvonne and got her to agree to part from her band mates long enough for a dinner.

"Do you want me to be here?" Glen asked.

"Of course," Allison said.

Sometimes Glen resented his stepdaughters' lack of friendliness. But Allison thought it would go away in time. She had told him often especially not to worry about Yvonne; if she wasn't friendly, her mind was on her music.

Glen was even more leery of Yvonne than of Valerie. One of Yvonne's songs, _California_, seemed to him to contain lyrics directed at him. But he couldn't say that to Allison. She'd think he was crazy, though sometimes he thought that Allison was dense not to pick up on it. Allison had been born in California and so had Valerie. Allison and Duane had met at Berkeley when they both went to college there. They had moved back to Duane's hometown, Port Charles, when he started law school. Yvonne had been born in Port Charles at Mercy Hospital.

The song was written as though from a woman's point of view. Still it told the man to take his new girlfriend and go somewhere far away, like "your old home California," and never come back.

Maybe "old home" just fit there and filled out a line. Maybe the concepts in Yvonne's head were just strung together randomly. The song made as little sense as her other songs. Maybe she just threw in Allison's words from the past – maybe Allison referred to their old home, California and it was just one of Yvonne's memories, and she just attached it to a song about a relationship breaking up. She probably didn't want her mother to leave and go somewhere far away. But her father might have wanted that, and it would be like Yvonne's "artistry" to pick up on that and use it.

It was frustrating to Glen how you couldn't just ask Yvonne what the hell she meant, or get her to admit she meant nothing. There was no way to hash this out. You couldn't accuse anyone of anything. It was all "artistic."

When Yvonne arrived at the house, he let her in said hello with a cool politeness.

Yvonne hugged Allison and went to the kitchen with her. Glen sat in the living room and turned on his computer and tried to look at the latest properties for sale.

He could hear the conversation drifting out.

Yvonne was helping with stirring some mashed potatoes. Well and good. Let the little brat do something useful.

"It was a great party," Yvonne was saying. "Val just does everything you did, Mom."

"I trained her," Allison was saying.

"There were some new Baldwin lawyers there, younger ones," Yvonee said. "Sean, who represented the defendant in the Breyer/Webber case. That was a big case. Those clients got hurt bad."

"Another big case."

"Yeah, that one settled fast, too. Skye Quartermaine, the defendant, just plowed them down in a parking lot."

"How awful."

"One of them was there."

"A client?"

"Yes. She's a doctor. An intern, they call it? She's Dad's girlfriend now. He finally has one."

"That could be good. Calm him down. On the other hand, he'll probably do something to upset her, or her kids."

"She doesn't have kids. She's like about two years older than Valerie."

"Oh, dear, that'll never last," Allison said. "She'll want more attention that she could ever get from your dad."

"She seems to be crazy about him."

"So was I, once upon a time."

Glen wished they wouldn't talk about Duane Edwards, but he was Yvonne's father. Glen tried to feel mature about it. At least her daughters were grown up. The dealings with their father were minimal. He had dated a nurse last year, and her children had been young, and their father had been in Glen's face once or twice, even though Glen had barely gotten involved with their mother.

But Duane finally having his own girlfriend was good news to Glen.

They ate dinner with Allison attempting to get Yvonne to talk to Glen. Allison got Glen to go along to hear Yvonne's band whenever possible. Glen went, knowing it helped him out in the cause of getting a stable relationship with her daughters. He knew this was so, because of the way Allison tactfully brought it up to Yvonne, often, that Glen went to hear her band.

"Glen told me he thought the band sounded edgy the other evening," Allison said.

That would sure please Yvonne, Glen thought. "Yeah," he said. "That song, _Wall Man_, it's downright frightening."

Yvonne smiled.

"Then there's _California_," Glen said. "That song improves. And I like _Insomnia_. Always did."

"Thanks," Yvonne said. "Toby still works on the guitar line. He is trying to get it to sound like something that would keep people awake."

Glen kept his mouth shut and tried not to think about that. If he did, he would burst into laughter. There was nothing Toby played, nothing, that would ever fail to keep people awake.

After Yvonne left, Glen tested the waters with, "I think it's great if Duane has a girlfriend. You're not doubtful of it working out because you don't want him to, right?"

"Of course not," Allison said. She was always having to reassure Glen. But she didn't mind. He needed her attention. She liked that. "I just don't want to get my hopes up, is all. Woman like to be paid attention to and taken into account."

Glen knew that as far as Allison was concerned, Duane was terrible at that. "There's no accounting for tastes," Glen said. "An intern is busy with her career, so that could be ideal. She needs someone who will let her go to work and not complain that she's never home."

Allison went over to Glen and massaged his shoulders. "You're right. If that's what she needs, Duane is ideal. Positively ideal." She laughed a little. "You were wonderful with Yvonne, darling."

"Why thank you," he said. "Just call me the Dissenters' biggest fan."

Allison laughed again and hugged him.


	20. The Grapevine Works Really Well

Alexis saw Duane at the gym.

He sat down next to her.

"How's the necessity defense coming?" he asked. "The necessity of moving cars off train tracks?"

"Not bad," Alexis said. "I think we really have something there. I emailed the D.A. about it, but so far no response. Which means they can't think of one."

"Good for you."

"Good for me," she said. "Thanks for talking about it, anyway. It helps to talk about your issues."

"Legal and personal."

"I saw Sarah here the other day," Alexis said. "I talked to her a little while."

"Age difference comes up over and over again, wherever I turn. My daughters now. They said it doesn't bother them. But they talked about it. Now I don't have just Humphrey Bogart for an example. I have Paul McCartney, too."

Alexis laughed. "Yet you need to forget all about it and just deal with the relationship. On its own terms."

"Your advice did not steer me wrong before, counsel. It's that it's tough to forget about when it's the first thing on everyone's mind."

"It will be when it's new to someone. The girls had to deal with it, but they did and they are past it, at least, some. Everyone else will go through that stage too. Sarah is right, you will not trust her no matter who she is or how old she is until you are past your wife cheating on you. Deal with that."

"OK, but how?"

"I'm not sure. But you avoid it by using this up front issue."

"My problem, hesitation, whatever, is really from something else."

"Yes."

"Like the usual divorced person, I can blame the ex-wife."

"Yes," Alexis laughed. "Or your feelings about the ex-wife. Or about yourself, and the effect the ex-wife had on them."

"Allison and I were too young to even know that we have this fundamental difference. Philosophical. Towards life. Even so, I think I could have lived with it. She was always claiming I did not compromise. I still think I did."

"Now you're thinking. Not just saying 'my marriage ended because my wife had an affair.' Now you're getting the reason for the affair."

"I didn't compromise with the IRS once, not soon enough to avoid them seizing my assets," he said. "Allison thinks – thought – you compromise to avoid a fight. I've been a lawyer too many years for that. Or the longer I was a lawyer, the harder that got. You can't, or you always lose. You have to be willing to fight sometime. Pick your battles, she says. So I chose them, they weren't totally just automatic rebellion. Then it was that I chose too many."

"Allison just did not like the upheaval."

"Yes, but you've got that or just craven appeasement."

"I know what you mean."

"Yeah, maybe lawyers should just marry each other. Let's dump Jerry and Sarah and go to Tahiti."

Alexis laughed. "No, I get it. Jerry's not going to let me leverage his restaurant over a case. We understand each other. I really think Sarah understands. She's younger than Allison but she still understands you better. It must be the different life experience they each had. From what she said, she understands how you are willing to take a risk. I think she put that in a positive light."

"Sarah is smarter," Duane said. "I don't think anyone would dispute that. When I was that age, I was not that smart."

"Which may be why a man her age is not right for her," Alexis said. "The superficial rules don't always apply. From talking to her, I think she needs somebody who is willing to take a chance that might be bigger than what many people can tolerate. I remember being a young professional. The guys her age are too afraid they'll feel inferior to her. They probably go out of their way to hurt her."

"Ha," Duane said. "Maybe. Maybe. I remember colleagues at Baldwin, women lawyers, who had it rough. Others didn't, though. The ones that married other lawyers did best, in general. I see your point. I hope it doesn't affect Valerie too much. I guess it will. Maybe the younger generation is less sexist about the guy being taller and older and smarter and richer and a better ball player."

"What about Yvonne, aren't you worried about her too?"

"No, I wonder why. She's not a professional? Whoever gets involved with Yvonne is the one who's going to catch hell, not Yvonne."

Alexis smiled. "Any new songs referring to her old man?"

"Not yet, but now they met at the party and I think I will hear every new song on pins and needles."

Alexis laughed.

"She has that line in _Insomnia_ about being put three millions dollars in debt. Which refers to some of my earlier situations."

"Oh, no!"

"It goes, You spent my wages on a losing bet, you got me three millions dollars in debt. Then the gossip mill got that information straight to Sarah. You know this town."

"How did that happen?"

"One of the nurses was a friend of Valerie's and back then they were in the house when Allison yelled at me about it. Yvonne started singing it in the hallway. I remember going out and snapping at her to shut up. And of course, she didn't, and years later, she threw it into one of those hashes she calls song lyrics."

"The friend – Quinn Connor? Valerie was her maid of honor."

"Yes. Though now her last name is something else."

"My assistant is her new husband."

"Zander Smith?"

"Zander Kanishchev."

"I don't blame him for using Smith."

"Me neither."

"They got on the subject because somehow Quinn started explaining how Allison's husband dated another nurse. That's two coincidences. That the moron dated them both and that Sarah happened to be with those two nurses. Somehow that led to Quinn remembering the incident from years ago and now Sarah knows.

"Oh, boy. But my guess is that Sarah didn't go running from you because of that old story."

"Yeah, good guess. She even let me have a little space to complain about Allison."

"See?" Alexis grinned.


	21. Call Me Patti

Patti brought Danny a cup of coffee, at McKinley Engineering.

"Oh, thanks, Patti, you don't have to do that," Danny said.

"I still feel bad about messing up that report the other day."

"Forget it. You have a teenaged daughter. I had one once. Life is stressful."

"Yes. The divorce only makes it worse."

"I didn't know about that."

"I haven't said anything here at work, but it's to the point where I may as well."

"I'm really sorry."

"Thanks for the thought."

"How many kids do you have?"

"Taryn, Tony and Dasha. Taryn seems to be taking it in stride, but she's almost 18 and trying to be independent, of course."

"That's the age. My son Tim is in her class. Can you believe they are graduating?"

"Nope. Time flies. Oh, at the graduation. I'll probably have to deal with the sight of my ex-husband to be."

"Tell me if you want me and my son-in-law to go and deck him."

She smiled. "Only if he brings his girlfriend. Or, should I say, strumpet. I'd use stronger language but I'm at McKinley Engineering."

Danny laughed. "Go out on the town tonight and use stronger language, Patti."

Patti did go out to the London Underground. Kevin had called and asked to take the kids for the evening. Taryn had protested that. Patti liked that she did that, but knew from talking to her attorney that it wasn't a good idea to side with a child over a thing like that.

"If you're angry with your dad, that is understandable. But if you go you might get a chance to talk to him about it."

Patti went up to the bar. She saw Toby Breyer there. "Hey," she said.

"Hi, Mrs. Polk, where's Taryn?" he asked.

"Visiting with her father."

"She ain't gonna like that."

"She doesn't, but she needs to do it. By the way, would you mind calling me Patti? I know it's odd, but I can't stand Mrs. Polk just now."

"I understand. Are you going to change to your maiden name? My mom did that."

"Did she really? Even thought it changes her name to be different from yours?"

"Yep. Said there was no way she was using it."

"I'll have to think about that," Patti said. "I was going to leave it to make it so I didn't have a different name from my kids. You mind if I talk to your mom about it?"

"No. She lives in town, too. I'll bring her down here sometime. If Taryn can do it, I can."

"Did she get married again?"

"No, not so far, anyway."

Clay Delaney, the bartender, came over. Patti ordered a scotch and soda.

"How's the car?" Clay asked Patti.

"It made it over here," Patti said. "I appreciate your advice, really I do. I'm going to take it to that guy you mentioned next week."

"You really need new spark plugs."

"The life of a new divorcee," Patti sighed. "I was one of those women who always leaned on their husbands for the automotive stuff."

Clay laughed. "You can rely on me, if you want."

A few blocks up, Jason Quartermaine took his bike into a shop for some work. Another customer came in. "That your bike?" he asked.

They talked motorcycles for awhile. The other guy said he was Matt Delaney. He was a teacher at Port Charles High.

"I went there," Jason said, and introduced himself.

"Oh, you, I know all about you," Matt said. "Your name is all over the gym."

Jason just smiled.

"Football star," Matt said. "Is that right?"

"Yes," Jason said. "Now I'm a doctor."

"Don't need to do any tackling for that, eh?"

Jason laughed. "For sure, not. I'm a pediatrician."

"Working with kids is just great, isn't it?" Matt said. "Monsters."

Jason laughed. "You've got them in a tougher context. Have to deal with them longer term."

"Yeah, by the end of a day I'm usually ready to take most of the little brats to jail."

"Do they know you have a motorcycle?"

"Drive it to school every day," Matt said. "I have to be cool some way, you know."

"Yes," Jason agreed.

"But I thought you doctors flew planes in your spare time," Matt said.

"Not me. This is my thing."

"I hear you."

Back at the London Underground, Patti told Clay that Taryn had gotten a couple of bad grades. "But as long as she graduates, I guess it's OK," Patti said. "She's already been accepted at PCU."

"Senior slack-off," Toby said. "It might have happened without the divorce." Then of course, there was her little run in with the cops. But Patti wasn't supposed to know about that.

Clay wondered if Patti knew Taryn was dating both of them. It seemed like she did not.

He looked up to see his brother coming over. "Hey, Matt!" he said.

"This is my big brother Matt," Clay said to Patti. "He's a high school teacher. He can tell you about senior slack-off."

"That is an observable phenomena," Matt said. "Are you a high school senior?" he asked Patti.

"This is Taryn's mother. Mrs. Polk," Clay said to Matt.

"No, let's go with Patti," Patti said, shaking Matt's hand. "I'm getting a divorce, and I'm not too into my married name right now. The flattery that I'm the high school senior, I'll take."

"That would be Taryn," said Matt. "Is she slacking off now, at the end of her senior year? Shame on her."

"She's doing all right, considering the divorce."

"My grades went down during my parents divorce," Toby said. "But I was a freshman. And my grades were never that great, anyhow."

"Is that often a factor when a student's grades go down?" Patti asked Matt.

"Yes, very often."

Toby left, saying he had to go and work out some guitar parts.

A little while later, Taryn came in. She saw them all and came to the bar.

"Hi Mom," she said. "Hi, Clay."

"So this is the lovely Taryn," Matt said.

"You remember me? I was at your brother's party, with Clay."

"Another brother?" asked Patti.

"There are four or five," Taryn told her mother.

"Five all told," Matt said.

"Taryn, I'm about to get off," Clay said. "Mikhail is here. Do you want to go for a ride? I have something to ask you."

"Ohhh, what could that be?" Taryn grinned. "I think I'll go just out of curiosity. Are you OK here, Mom?"

"Sure, honey. Have a good time. Get her home at a decent hour, Clay."

"Of course I will, Mrs. – er, Patti."

"Patti!" Taryn exclaimed at Clay calling his mother that.

"I'll explain in the car," Clay said.


	22. Leaving London Underground

Clay drove over to the park to take Taryn for a walk.

"Look Taryn," he said, holding her hand as they walked along. "You've got to tell Toby."

Taryn stopped. She thought she was going to faint.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"I'm not a dumbass, Taryn," Clay said. "The band members talk right at the bar, your mom talks. Now Toby talks to me and thanks me for driving his girlfriend home. It's starting to get awkward."

"Why?" Taryn asked. "So what? You date more than just me, don't you?"

"I didn't," he said. "But when I realized we were not exclusive, I had to consider myself free. Of course, between work and school there are only so many hours in the day."

"I don't see why Toby wouldn't understand," Taryn said.

"Then tell him."

"How? How do I start that conversation?"

"Who knows? Maybe you can write a letter to Branwyn's column."

"Yeah, right," Taryn said, scornfully.

"What, yeah right?"

"Branwyn is a total innocent in this kind of thing."

"She doesn't need personal experience to know," Clay said. "She knows what happened to her five older brothers and three older sisters, various aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and family friends. That's where she gets her knowledge."

"So one of your brothers or sisters has had this situation?"

Clay laughed. "Probably, somewhere along the line."

"You sure you're not mad? About me and Toby?"

"Not mad. But I think you should probably pick, or at least tell him. He doesn't know, so he's probably going to be ticked off, just for not being in the know and looking like a dork."

"He's the lead guitarist in a rock band. There's no way for him to look like a dork."

"He's still going to feel - used. Out of it. Dumb. Pathetic. Everyone else knows."

"Yeah, and he'll tell Yvonne, and soon she'll have a song about it," Taryn said, ruefully. "I wonder if I can do anything to stop her from doing that."

"Short of killing her? Nothing."

"Wait a minute," she said. "You didn't date anyone else until you realized I was?"

"True," Clay said. "But I think you are doing it to get back at Jeremy. Subconsciously."

"Are you going to be a psychiatrist now rather than a chiropractor?"

"It's just human nature," Clay said. "In fact, maybe you're not all that interested in either of us."

"Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy," Taryn complained. "Everything I do, everyone wants to say it's because of Jeremy. I don't plan on having Jeremy run the rest of my life!"

"Then don't let him," Clay said. "Do you really want to go out with me? With Toby? Would you if Jeremy said he wanted to date you again? Think this one through, Taryn."

"I wish I could ask Mom about it. She has so many of her own problems."

"Maybe yours will be a good distraction," Clay said. "Or maybe you can talk to my sister the counselor."

"There's a Delaney for everything," Taryn smiled.

"Yep," Clay said.

Back at the London Underground, Matt said: "I'd better go, I have to get up for school in the morning."

"Me too," Patti said. "I've got to be at work."

Out in the parking lot, Patti got in her car and tried to start it. The engine made some noise, but refused to turn over.

"Damn," Patti said. She tried it again.

Matt heard her engine stalling. He pulled up next to her and turned off the motorcyle. "Car trouble?" he asked.

"Yes, this dratted thing won't start again," Patti said.

"Pop the hood," Matt said.

"I really should have taken it in," Patti said. "Can you jump it?"

"It's not a battery problem," Matt said. "It's late, you can call a tow truck tomorrow. Let me take you home."

"I still have to get to work tomorrow," Patti said. "Well, I'll figure that out. One of the other secretaries can take me. What a pain. I'm sorry. You don't have to take me home, I'll call a cab."

"That'll take time," he said. "Are you afraid to ride on a motorcycle?"

"No, it's not that. It's just imposing on you."

"Oh, no. I don't mind going anywhere on my bike."

He handed her his helmut.

"OK," she said. In truth, she was a little nervous. She didn't think she'd ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle before. On scanning her memory again, she was sure she never had.

She told him how to get to her house.

At first she felt very vulnerable, as he pulled out into traffic. But eventually she just watched the sights they were passing and relaxed.

"Thank you," she said, when they had reached the driveway of her house.

"Any time," he said, and smiled at her before he drove away.

Back at the London Underground, Ned Ashton was having a drink, after he had performed.

He noticed, after awhile, that Toby Breyer came down.

"Good set, dude," Toby said to Ned.

"Thanks," Ned said. "I would have thought someone your age would have hated it."

"Nah, I appreciate a good riff and a good melody."

"You play?"

"Sure, I have a band," Toby said. He described the band to Ned and told him their name.

"I'll come down some night you are playing," Ned said.

"Cool," said Toby.

Suddenly, Ned's cousin, Skye, was in his face.

"Why did you start playing here?" she demanded.

"It's a venue, and I auditioned," Ned said. "And you had nothing to do with that process."

"I just had a talk with the manager," she said. "About what type of music is played here."

"He must not agree with you," Ned said.

"He wants more variety than I do, true," Skye said.

"You only want less variety so that you can keep me out," Ned said. "How come? What's it to you?"

"I think of this place as my escape from the family, that's why. It's bad enough Emily is always around."

"She is? I haven't seen her."

"Maybe she doesn't like the act booked for tonight," Skye smirked.

"She likes my music just fine," Ned said. "This is a public place. The world is not closed to the rest of your family, Skye."

"It should be," Skye said. She marched off.

"She's your cousin?" Toby asked Ned.

"Yes, on my mother's side," Ned said. "I hope I don't have that many genes in common with her."

"You have some," Toby grinned. "Why does she want to get away from her family so much?"

"Our family's older generation is rather domineering," Ned said. "I hover between the older and the younger generations."

"That sounds like the best place to be," Toby said.


	23. Problems with Solutions

Beth opened the door to see her husband's nieces, Colleen and Mary Ellen.

"Come in," she said, happy to see them.

"I thought I'd see if I could be of any use to Kara," Colleen said. "And Mary Ellen came with me."

"What a sweet thing to do," Beth said. "So many people have been so helpful."

Kara came downstairs after Beth went up to get her.

"You look so thin," her cousin Colleen observed.

"I hate it," Kara said. "I want to be like I was before and start playing volleyball."

"That's good," Colleen said. "You wouldn't believe some of the patients I see who think it's good to be sick if it's something that causes them to lose weight." Colleen was a licensed counselor, and she had a lot of anorexic clients. "I'm glad that's not affecting you."

"I'm used to being active," Kara said. "I want to get back to that."

"Are you going to be able to play volleyball?" Mary Ellen asked Kara.

"I sure hope so. My treatments are done. I already feel a little better. The doctor says take it easy, but I can try to get into it."

"I'm glad," Mary Ellen said. "You know, you're an inspiration. Would you like to have me do an article? I could go into what happened and how you're fighting it."

"It will look like nepotism, though," Kara said. "We have the same name."

"It shouldn't be, news is news," Mary Ellen said. "If it happened to someone else, I'd do it. What do you say?"

"OK," Kara said. "Could you mention everyone who has helped me?"

"But of course. Who is that?"

"My parents, of course, Oksana, Amanda, Branwyn, but mostly Peter."

"Her boyfriend," Colleen told Mary Ellen.

"We'll talk about all of them," Mary Ellen said. "I'll pick you up after school. Or better yet, I'll come to practice one day. Would that be too distracting?"

"No, I don't think so," Kara said. "If you don't make too big a deal of it."

"OK, no big deal," Mary Ellen laughed.

Duane went to Sarah's apartment. She had invited him over to dinner. He knew there was more to it than that. He wasn't ready to deal with it, but he knew he never would be.

She poured him a glass of wine.

"I drove over," he said, trying to refuse the glass.

"You aren't going home for a long time, Duane," she said. "you can handle this."

He sighed.

"I can cook, too, can't I?" Sarah said. "I even have all the old fashioned virtues."

"You cook like a doctor," he said.

She laughed and said, "See, you can't go wrong with me."

She had turned on some music. "Do you want to dance?" he asked.

"Thank you, I thought you'd never ask. I thought you only danced with Patti Polk."

"I was dancing with you a long time at Jakes!"

"Oh, but that was just so I wouldn't beat you at pool."

"Oh, so it doesn't count, does it?"

They danced awhile. He felt the silkiness of her hair, and the firmness of her body. He wasn't used to that kind of body, at least, not for the past fifteen years. He was out of his league.

Deal with it, he told himself. Figure out a way. There had to be a way to get out of here without sleeping with a girl twenty years younger than himself.

He had to quit worrying about that. Like Alexis said. Quit blaming that.

He felt helplessly vulnerable, because he knew he was going to try to trust her.

He was kissing her the next minute.

She responded warmly, passionately. He wondered where the line was. Was she going to change her mind? He'd tried it when he first kissed her, here in this apartment, just to figure out if she wasn't just teasing and wouldn't really want to be involved with him like that in reality. But she had. Now, it didn't seem very probable that Sarah would suddenly be unwilling. So that one would not work. Talking to her never worked, she just out-argued him.

"You should have been a lawyer," he said. "But then," he said, realizing, "you'd have to be able to argue both sides of a question."

"Yes," she said, kissing his neck, slowly.

"So try to get me to leave."

"I'm not a lawyer," she said, between her kisses, going on, and massaging his back with those hands.

Clay was in his dorm room doing some studying. Suddenly, he had an idea.

He opened his laptop and started a letter. Dear Branwyn. I am dating two guys. One knows, the other does not. Now they run into each other a lot. They sort of work in the same place. How do I tell the one who doesn't know? Just come out and say it? Break it one step at a time? Sincerely, Torn Between Two Lovers.

He could put it into his sister's backpack, he thought. Or, maybe she expected them to come from a particular box at school. He tried to think if he still had any contacts at the school other than Taryn or Branwyn. Maybe he could talk his cousin Kara into it. Maybe he could talk Branwyn herself into it. He could even write the answer for Branwyn. Or have Branwyn send the answer to Taryn without publishing it.

For a moment he thought he should abandon the plan. But then, he printed the letter out, thinking there must be some way for it to work.


	24. The Past and the Present

The day was starting at McKinley Engineering. Chad Breyer was a new engineer. He saw a woman in the coffee room, sighing as she poured her coffee.

"It's not that bad," Chad said, teasing.

"Oh, yes it is," she said. "You're young. You don't know what can happen.

He smiled. "I'm new here. My name is Chad Breyer."

"Breyer, huh," she said. "Are you any relation of Toby Breyer?"

"My little brother! How do you know him? You don't look like a gal who would be into his band's music."

"No, but my daughter is."

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"Patti Polk," she said. "My daughter's name is Taryn. Have you met her?"

"No," he said. "So does she like the Dissenters?"

"Oh, yes, and she likes Toby very much. They're even dating, so I'm surprised you don't know."

"Toby keeps that close to the vest unless he can't avoid it," Chad said. "It's like he waits for it to reach a certain stage of seriousness, you know?"

"I guess so. Maybe that's good news. Taryn is just graduating from high school this year."

"Oh, no wonder. My mother would never approve of that," Chad said. "I mean, sorry, I didn't mean that if it's OK with you it's not OK. Just that my mother can have some very strict standards."

"It's OK," Patti said. "Toby actually seems like a nice guy to me, even if he is the guitarist for one of the grungiest bands in the universe. I've heard them, a lot, going over to the London Underground with Taryn. Don't you go to see them?"

"Not as often as I'd like. I end up with other things to do and they're always playing somewhere, so it's one of those things where I think I can always go."

"Really, they get a lot of gigs?"

"Lately it seems that way, but they were always rehearsing somewhere."

"Yes. Taryn goes to the barn where they rehearse sometimes."

Dan Connor came in. "Hey, guys," he said, getting a cup of coffee.

"A lot of work to do today?" Chad asked Danny.

"Oh, sure," Danny said. "You'll get all of it too, rookie."

Chad laughed. "I know how that is."

A little while later, Patti was at her desk. A man came in, looking uncertain about where he was. He was an Asian man in his thirties.

"Can I help you?" Patti asked. He didn't look like the people who normally stopped by, that was, his clothes were not typical of engineers.

"I am looking for someone," the man said. "It is someone who worked here the last time I was in town. His name is Joseph Quinn."

"Joe, Joe Quinn," Patti mused. "He doesn't work here now. He retired."

"Oh, yes," the man said, as if he hadn't thought of it, but it sounded reasonable. "Do you know if he still lives in town?"

"I'm pretty sure he does. Danny Connor would know, and he still works here."

"Yes," the man said, "Danny Connor will know."

Patti buzzed Danny, "Who shall I say is calling?" she asked the young man.

"Jimmy," the young man said.

A few minutes later, Danny Connor came out. "Jimmy!" he exclaimed. He went over to Jimmy, shook his hand, and patted him on the shoulder.

"Danny, hello," Jimmy said. "I am looking for Joe."

"How is your mom? I hope it's not bad news."

"Sort of bad. I wanted to get help from Joe. I hope he will talk to me."

"Of course he will, old man! He's retired now."

"Can you tell him I am in town and want to talk to him?"

"I'll tell him you're here."

"Thank you, Daniel," he said. That reminded Danny of the old days, and how Joe sometimes called him "Daniel" as a sort of nickname, ironically.

"Just one favor," Danny said. "Let me tell him first, so he has a warning."

"He's not in bad health?"

"Oh, no! He's in great health for his age. Takes good care of himself. You'd know that. I only thought since he hasn't seen you in so long, that it might be easier on him to get a warning."

"OK, Danny," Jimmy said. "Thank you," he said to Patti. He gave Danny his phone number.

"Wow," Danny said, after he had gone out.

"Who is he?" Patti said.

"Joe's ex-stepson, Jimmy Nu. Joe was married to his mother a long, long time ago. She left him. Joe hasn't seen Jimmy since then."

"You still recognized him."

"He was almost grown up when I last saw him. So he only changed from young man to what he is now. Heck, I've changed less," he grinned.

"Oh, right," Patti laughed. "Me too."

Duane opened his eyes, not sure where he was. He was in a room he had never seen in the light. Sarah wasn't there, but there was a sounds of someone moving around out in the apartment and the smell of coffee.

He did not even remember going to sleep. He could only feel the shock of her skin against his for the first time, and remember how she had wrapped her legs around him. They had gone on and on, for a long time, and repeatedly. He had never been like that, even when he was young.

He felt like she had wrung every bit of tension and stress out of him. He had slept a dreamless sleep that let him open his eyes now and feel completely alert.

Sarah was watching the coffee pot, feeling very relaxed. She remember how exciting it had felt when she had become aware he wasn't resisting her any longer. Then his confidence took over, and that had been a thrill, because once he made up his mind to it he went on, determined and strong, taking off her shirt, unhooking her bra, taking everything off of her without losing anything himself. She just sighed and let him do it. He pushed her onto her bed and only then let her take his shirt off of him.

She knew she'd made a good choice; he was passionate, as she had guessed he would be once he gave in. It had been just the way sex was supposed to be, she thought. All out, in total concentration. She vaguely recalled falling asleep in his arms and waking up feeling like she had never slept so well in her life.

Finally, she heard him get up. He got dressed and came out. She handed him a cup of coffee.

"Thank you," he said.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"Very. You wore me out."

She laughed and took a sip of coffee. "You wore me out," she said. She was wearing a red, silky looking robe.

"But did you sleep OK? Why are you up?"

"I did, and I must need less than you. That's individual differences, not youth."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, good," he said. He drank some more of the coffee.

He went closer to her and looked down at her. "I forgot, your injuries. Did I hurt you?"

"A little, here and there, but it was worth it."

"No, you should have told me."

She put her coffee cup down and ran her hands over his arms, and pulled him closer. He bent his head a little and put his down too.

"I'll tell you what," she said, kissing his neck. She drove his crazy with that. "I'll tell you if you promise to just change your moves and go on and not feel guilty and apologize."

"That sounds fair enough," he said. He put his arms around her and kissed her, hard. "This is all over my head," he said. "I don't believe I'm here."

"You don't have a problem with that," Sarah said. "Anyway, it's me who is in over my head. You have had an extra twenty years of scheming, trickery and chicanery. You will outsmart me any time."

"That's not true," he said. "You're smarter than I am. I am right, because I can remember when I was your age. You can't know being mine."

"Maybe we are equal then, baby."

"I don't know about that," he said. "You got back on a horse after it threw you and you had a concussion."

"How could you possibly have known about that?"

"I have all your medical records."

"Oh, you mean, for the case?"

"Yes, Sean found out all about your previous injuries, in the dippy hope, I guess, of proving your current problems were due to the old accident."

"But that's silly."

"So he found out. But how did you get back on a horse after that, at thirteen years old? I think your are the toughest being in existence."

"Thanks for thinking that," Sarah said. "It was my fault, I wasn't wearing a helmet. I made some mistakes, but I knew then not to make them again."

"I bet you won't," he said.

Later, when Duane was leaving, he said, "Call me. I'll leave it up to you."

"I think it is your turn now," she said.

He had called her in the past, but she seemed to have made the first move most of the time. He considered this, and could see the justice in it. He was burdening her with everything.

"You are amazing," he said.

She smiled and put her arms around him. She hugged him as though it was a wonderful chance to have, to get to hug him.

"Just don't make a game out of trying to go as long as possible without calling me," Sarah said. "This is a rough point on my ego."

"I won't," he said, kissing her hair. "I promise, Sarah."


End file.
